


School Days in Sisa Part 1

by SonicoSenpai



Series: School Days in Sisa [1]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-, Togainu no Chi
Genre: Accidental Flirting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attraction, Awkward First Times, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bath Houses, Blow Jobs, Clueless Konoe, Control Issues, Controlling Behavior, Corporal Punishment, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Devils, Disciplinary Committee - Freeform, Discipline, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment, Falling In Love, First Crush, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Going to try to keep this one less intense than my other stuff, Grooming, Hand Jobs, Haven't quite decided how this is going to go yet, Hazing, High School, I have it out for Konoe, Internal Monologue, Intimidation, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Lots of OOC behavior, Love at First Sight, M/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Spanking, Nudity, Private Tutor, Rape/Non-con Elements, Seriously I can't help myself, Sexual Violence, Singing for the First Time, Spanking, Student Konoe, Teacher Koujaku, Teacher Rai, Teacher Razel, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teen Angst, Touga and Sanga, Tutoring, Violence, fear of hazing, therapeutic writing, writing as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: The time of the Void is passed, and the ruler of Sisa has decided to educate its young. Sisa’s School for Well-Rounded Ribika has been opened and all young cats are required to attend. Konoe, who has lived on his own since the death of his mother, receives a notice to attend. The story begins on his first day at the academy.If you are new to Lamento: Touga and Sanga refer to a bonded pair of fighting cats. The Touga is the fighter, and the Sanga supports and strengthens the Touga during the battle through a (magical) song. You can train to be a Touga, but being a Sanga is usually a gift.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some characters may seem OOC in this fanfic--and I'm going to try (really try) to keep this one a little lighter. Although, I'm still labeling it explicit, and I'll update the tags as necessary. Konoe tends to attract non-con stuff like a magnet, but I wanted to write something a little sweeter. This is it.

I’ve never set foot in a classroom.

Never.

I’ve never really been around other cats, either. The cats of my village, Karou, have always avoided me—at least as long as I can remember since my mother died when I was about five. I was treated as an outcast. I think they hoped I would die. I was an inconvenience, just one more useless mouth to feed. But this was still during the time of the Void. 

Now, since the time of the Void has passed, forests are reviving, the land is ripe with game, and food is plentiful again. Times are changing, and the ruler of Sisa is calling for general education of all kittens, demanding we learn to read and write, and he is also looking for defenders of the kingdom—specifically those who are gifted as Sanga and training others as Touga to protect the land.

I’m not gifted in any way, although I've been protecting my own territory here quite well. I’ve lived on my own since my mother died, and I’m 16 now. However, I’m barely literate, and I was _really_ hoping to avoid this school thing since I don’t get along well with others. But they found me anyway—tapped on my door, told me to pack my things for the new semester, and said I was assigned to live in the dorm.

I would not have been able to find my way here, except with my friend Tokino’s help as he showed me the way. Thank the gods, he will be attending as well, so I’m not alone here. Today is my first day. I’ve been lurking outside the dorm for a few minutes now—about ten, actually—waiting to gather the courage to introduce myself to the resident supervisor. But I haven’t been able to do that yet. I guess I am a little reserved.

As I’ve been waiting, I’ve noticed the school grounds are oddly empty. I wonder if I maybe got the wrong day, but it’s possible that there just aren’t many cats my age these days. Maybe classes are in session? I sigh deeply. Why even bother with this?

What I _want_ to do is to turn around and head back home to Karou, but I can’t do that. There are two problems with that. First, the people in my village would send me right back here. Second, I don’t think I could find my way back home. I’m probably the _only_ Ribika born without a sense of direction, so I lose my way very easily. Only my friend Tokino knows about this, though, since I’ve done a great job hiding it. It’s shameful—a Ribika with a sense of direction? It's unheard of.

I sway on my feet, enjoying the forest breeze through my hair and my ears—really, this place looks more like a large inn than a dorm, if I know anything at all. I finally approach the front door. Just then, another cat comes up—at least, I _think_ it’s a cat. It looks like a huge pile of packages—and I mean, a _huge_ pile of packages—it's nearly _twice_ my size. It speaks.

“Hey, I sense someone there,” a very deep voice says. “Do me a favor and grab the door for me, will you? I picked up too much stuff at the market, and you’ll save me the trouble of having to put this crap down.” 

I helpfully open the door and hold it open, watching the bags, parcels, and packages wander into the entry. I follow it with my eyes, and holding all of that stuff is a giant cat with orange and black stripes. He has black hair, a matching beard, and looks _way_ too old to be a student.

“Thanks for your help,” he says over his shoulder. “I don’t recognize you. Are you new here?” 

“I am,” I say, a little timidly, especially after noticing the difference in stature between us. What the hell? He is a _giant_. I’ve never seen a cat so large before. I close my mouth, realizing I've left my jaw hanging open.

“I’m Bardo, the resident supervisor. Come and see me if you need anything to make your stay a little more comfortable. Let me set this stuff down and I’ll get you checked in. Give me a second.” 

He leisurely wanders into a room off the side of the entry. The dorm is quite elegant inside, with a vaulted ceiling and several comfortable sofas for lounging, and I sit down to rest my feet. It’s taken nearly three-quarters of the day to get here from my village, so I’m tired.

Bardo returns shortly as promised.

“You look awfully young,” he says, looking at me. “Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“Tokino directed me here, and I was given a notice. I’m 16.” Perhaps I sound a little defensive since I don’t even want to be here. 

“Ah, I see,” Bardo looks at me a little curiously. “Your name?” 

“Konoe.”

He looks through a book at the reception desk. “There you are. Konoe of Karou. Huh. I see. Should be interesting having you here. I know a lot of our instructors are excited to have you with us, given your heritage.” 

“My heritage?” I ask.

“Yes,” Bardo smiles. I have no _clue_ what he means, but he doesn’t elaborate. “We have single rooms, which is ideal for students. No running in the hallways, as brash cats die young! Lights out at midnight. _No_ sneaking around after dark. You don’t want _me_ doing room checks!" He gives me a wink when he says this. "And stay out of the way of the disciplinary committee. They can be a little forceful. There’s a copy of the school’s rulebook and your uniform in your room. Your room is number 5 upstairs, the last door on the right, toward the end of the hall. Here's your key."

”Thank you,” I say. “What does the disciplinary committee do?”

“They keep the students in line and uphold the school’s rules. No big deal, just make sure you read through the rulebook.”

“Okay,” I say, hoping I’m able to puzzle through it later.

“Meals are served at 9 AM, 1 pm, and 8 pm. I make everything from scratch, and if you have preferences, please let me know. I’ll happily take requests. I know you’re from Karou, which is still under a slight shortage, so I’ll bend over backward to get some more meat on those skinny bones. In fact—do you need anything now? I’m happy to whip up a quick snack for you right now if you like. You look exhausted from your journey. I’ll bring something up to your room in a bit, as soon as I get the groceries put away, okay, honey?”

 _Honey_? Did he just call me honey? I jerk my head up in his direction, but he’s smiling at me with a warm, friendly smile. I think he means well, and I am really hungry.

“Uh, thanks? That would be great.” I notice he’s eyeing me carefully from head to toe, which makes me a little bit uncomfortable.

“There’s a nice bathhouse on this floor, through these doors and to the left, if you’d like to clean up before changing into your uniform. You should do that right away. Civvies are only allowed when you’re not on school grounds. You’ll find a robe, slippers, and towel in your room, and all personal grooming supplies you need will be in the bathhouse.”

“Oh, okay. That’s good to know. Thank you. I’ll do that first, then.”

“Good luck, and welcome!” He brushes my ears when he leaves—which makes me flinch just a little bit. I’m really not used to other cats touching me. Well—I guess Tokino does sometimes, but he’s been a friend for years. This is just some big guy I just met. He seems overly friendly, I guess. But he means well, I think. I find him slightly intimidating.

He heads back into the kitchen, his long striped tail flicking goodbye, and I make my way upstairs to my room, number 5 at the end of the hall on the right.

When I walk into my room, I am really surprised. My room is larger than my entire home in Karou! It’s really nice. I have lots of bright light in the afternoon, and there’s a large bed—it’s a _huge_ bed, probably designed for cats the size of the resident supervisor, I suppose—as well as a desk, a small dresser, and a closet. In the closet, I find several clean and pressed uniforms, a robe, a swimsuit and a tracksuit, all in my size. I undress, throw my clothes into the hamper, and slip into the robe and slippers, which were provided just as Bardo said, and make my way over to the bathhouse. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good bath.

I was expecting a watering hole, like what we had in Karou. But that’s _not_ what this is. When I walk in, I decide that school might not be so bad after all. When I heard about three meals a day—I was _starting_ to change my mind, but _now_ , when I see the bathhouse, I’m decided. I will _like_ it here.

There’s a shower room, which is where I start. It’s stocked with both bar soap and liquid soap, which has a label on it with a picture of someone washing their hair, so I assume it’s especially for your hair and fur—and I use it. It smells amazing. Minty or something. It tingles my scalp. It feels great. I soap up my body really well, and I haven’t felt this clean in a really long time.

Then, there’s a hot-spring style bath there, too. I step into it, intending to stay just for a little while, figuring I’ll soak in it for a few minutes. Bardo can leave my snack for me if he wants to—but I just can’t pass this up! I end up staying quite a bit longer than the few minutes I was planning.

I float around for a while, and there’s a _fountain_ —and why didn’t Tokino tell me about this? This is crazy awesome! I’m playing in the fountain water—messing around in it, letting it drip on my head, playing in it with my tail and even my tongue—I’m terribly distracted, so I don’t notice when another cat wades into the water behind me and sits on the bench in the pool. He just sits there and watches me—for how long, I have _no_ idea. What I _do_ know is that he scares the living _shit_ out of me when I turn around and notice him sitting there.

Not only am I really embarrassed to have been caught playing in the water in such a carefree way. Additionally, I’m still little jumpy from the trek through the forest, and I unintentionally bristle my fur—which is soaking wet, probably making me look like a porcupine—bare my fangs, and draw my claws in surprise, hissing loudly. That’s a totally _normal_ reaction when you startle a cat! Couldn’t that other cat have splashed or at least made a _little_ noise? 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you,” he says, his voice low and rumbling, with a slight smirk on his face. “You just looked like you were having such a good time, I didn’t want to interrupt your playtime.”

His words are so damn arrogant. Is he a student here? Where does he get off talking to me like that? And he thinks this is _funny_? What the hell? 

Looking at him a little more closely, he has pale skin and white—almost silver—hair and matching fur. His long hair is floating in the water around his body, like a cloud—it must be close to waist-length. He’s wearing a black eyepatch over his right eye, and the other is pale blue and very sharp. Just observing him sitting there, I can tell he is much taller than me because more of his body sticks up out of the water than mine did when I sat on the side of the pool. Although, it looks like he is _trying_ to submerge most of his body underneath the water, as though he’s trying to relax. His face is surprisingly attractive, I can’t help noticing. Well, I’m _trying_ not to notice.

“I—I was just surprised is all,” I say, trying to settle myself down a little bit.

“I don’t recognize you. Are you a new student here? You look awfully young.”

What the fuck? That’s the second time in less than 30 minutes!

“I’m 16,” I say defensively. “What’s it to _you_? Why the hell would you care?”

The silver cat laughs, which changes his entire demeanor, and _really_ makes him look nice. In fact, his face is _really_ attractive when he smiles. “I’m Rai. I’ll be your fencing and sword training instructor.” He smiles kindly.

Shit. Now I’ve done it. He doesn’t look old enough to be an instructor. 

“Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” I say lamely, unable to meet his eye, but also unable to look away completely. He’s strangely good looking, and I find I can’t take my eyes off him. I end up staring at his hair, his rounded ears—so different from mine—and his chest, which is straightening up out of the water now. “I’m Konoe of Karou. I apologize if I offended. I just arrived this afternoon, and I’m a little worn out from my journey.”

Rai examines me carefully from under long eyelashes. “That’s quite all right. I look forward to working with you, Konoe of Karou. I’ve heard you might be joining us soon. I’ll be glad to see you in class tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.” I look down nervously. 

I’ve never really spent much time with other cats, so I don’t really know how to interact with them. And this—this is _really_ awkward. First, because I was rude, assuming he was an arrogant student. Second, I’m talking to a cat I find _exceedingly_ attractive, _and_ I’m naked. In fact, we are _both_ naked. Third, he doesn’t seem to think there’s _anything_ strange or awkward about this situation at all. What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to act?

“Have you settled into your room all right? Do you have everything you need?” His voice is even softer than it was a moment ago.

“Um, it’s a very nice place, much nicer than my home. I can hardly believe it,” I say. “I’m sure I’ll find everything I need here.”

“Well, feel free to come to me, if I can make your stay more comfortable. Sometimes, school can be difficult during the first semester. Being away from home can be hard on some kittens.” He is speaking so kindly, that pale blue eye seeing right through to my heart, which is thumping loudly in my ears.

How the _hell_ am I going to get out of the pool without him noticing my... attraction to him? This is going to be really awkward.

“Um, thank you,” I stammer uncomfortably. “I-I’d better be going back. I still have to unpack and get settled in.”

“I’m sure you’re tired, and it looks like the hot water is getting to you. I’ll see you at dinner. It’s at 8 pm.”

He has such a nice voice. Damn, why was I so rude earlier? I must have made a horrible impression. Wait—what? Did he say the hot water is getting to me?

“I’m sorry—what do you mean about the hot water?” 

“Your ears and face are really pink. I wonder if the hot water is getting to you? Perhaps you should get out rinse yourself in the showers with some cool water.”

Ugh—I’m blushing, and he noticed. Shit, shit, shit. I can hear more blood rushing into my ears even faster after his remark.

“Oh—yes. I should get out. I’ve been in much too long.” I wade over to the side of the pool—not where he is sitting—but then, I realize when I get out, he’ll see my ass. Better than the front, though—at least in my current state. Ugh, so embarrassing! A cool shower is _totally_ warranted in this case!

I grab my towel from the side quickly to cover myself and walk as quickly as possible to the showers, and I feel his eye follow me. It’s probably just because he’s concerned I might faint. I'm a little concerned I might faint, too, at this point. I stand underneath the stream for a few moments—the lukewarm water helps—I don’t want to freeze or shock my system. I’ve left my robe in there, too, so I can wrap myself up before I come back out, thank the gods.

When I come out, he’s standing under the fountain, letting the water run over his hair and back—and holy shit—his chest is _totally_ ripped. He is _definitely_ a sword fighting instructor. He doesn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. Gods, those arms! He has a six-pack like I’ve never seen—and now I realize it’s a _good_ thing I haven’t been around other cats before. Is this what it’s like? What is my problem? I’m never like this around Tokino, so what the hell is wrong with me?

He notices me watching him, and says,”I’m glad you’re all right. You looked like you were ready to faint. Your ears still look pink, so make sure Bardo gets you some food and water when you get back to your room, okay?”

He’s really naked, I realize. I try not to look down past his flat belly—so I tell myself as I'm noticing that silver fur just below his navel—but the rest of him is underwater. He is really, _really_ tall—maybe as tall as Bardo, I realize, when I see his navel is above the water. My cheeks flush even hotter when I accidentally meet his eyes once more. He gives me a rather charming smile—he realizes I was checking him out and nods at me. He knows he’s attractive, all right. I blush even harder. Gods, could I be any more awkward?

“Nice meeting you,” I say, now completely ashamed, and I make myself scarce.

That couldn’t have gone worse.

My ears are still burning by the time I get back upstairs. I slip out of my robe and lay my uniform on the bed. Wow—so many pieces.

I put my underwear and undershirt first, of course, and then button up the trousers. They are a nice blue plaid. I have a white button-up shirt with navy blue trim, and it takes two tries to line up the buttons. I don’t know how to tie a tie. I’m working on it when there’s a knock at the door.

I head to the door, and it’s Bardo. He walks right in even before I can invite him. He takes up a _lot_ of space in here, I realize.

“Hey, kiddo, enjoy your bath? You smell great! I’ve brought you a snack as promised,” he says, and he sure has—he’s carrying a tray with a sandwich, some fruit, and a large glass on it. “Did you stay in the hot water too long?”

His hand shoots out and touches my ear softly. I’m really not used to having anyone touch me—ever—and I flinch. He ignores my reaction.

“Aw, your ears are flushed. How cute! Do they blush when you get embarrassed?”

He sets the tray down at my desk.

“Be sure to drink all this juice—it will make you feel better. I wonder if I should bring you some water, too. Maybe you got dehydrated in there, too? Are you feeling all right?”

He brushes both my ears again, this time feeling them a little more thoroughly, and I flatten them against my head and try to move away from him.

“Damn, you _do_ feel hot. Maybe you should rest a bit before dinner. And,” he looks down at me and smiles slightly, “do you need a little help with that tie?”

For the first time since he’s been here, I get a chance to answer him.

“Um, yes. I don’t know how to tie it.”

“Here, turn around.” He puts his large hands on my shoulders and turns me to face the mirror. He puts his huge body behind me and holds the tie in his hands over my shoulder.

“Here, let’s do this… Wait a minute, your buttons are misaligned! What’s this? Did you grow up in a barn or something? We have to fix these first.”

Before I can even open my mouth, he starts to unbutton my shirt right in front of the mirror, _much_ to my embarrassment—and my protests.

“No—please—stop—I don’t need you to—“

“Just relax. I’m older and I have more experience with this kind of thing that a young thing like yourself. In fact,” he says, putting his mouth directly onto my ear while meeting my eye in the mirror, “ _removing_ clothing is a specialty of mine, you might say.” 

Pervert! The supervisor is a _pervert_! Gods, get me out of here! 

I immediately try to squirm out of his arms, but he won’t let me budge—he has me squeezed against his chest with his arms. Then, he starts buttoning my shirt back up right away.

“I’m  _teasing_ , little one,” he says, laughing. “No reason to get so worked up. But seriously—you don’t have much experience with this kind of shirt, do you?”

My ears and face are _really_ red now, and my ears droop a little. I watch carefully as he ties my tie in the mirror, praying I’ll be able to do it myself next time. He shows me how to loosen it and tighten it as well. 

“Now, keep your blazer hanging up till you’re ready to leave, so you won't wrinkle it. Wear the vest, too, underneath the blazer. Here—slip it on,” he slips the knit vest over my head. I feel like a doll when he dresses me like this. “Yosh! Now, all you need are your shoes and that blazer, and you’re set. You’re _adorable_. But seriously, you should grab a snack and take a rest. I’m sure you’ll wake with the dinner bell. _Don’t_ be late to the meals. The disciplinary committee frowns on tardiness to _any_ activity, so just be careful.”

“All right,” I say, still unwilling to make eye contact after that little interaction. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I look like a real student now. It’s weird. Do I wear this for sword training, I wonder? Wait—I saw another uniform in there, too—it looks like a tracksuit. I stop Bardo before he leaves, grabbing his sleeve. “What’s this uniform for?” 

“Ah, this is your PE uniform. When you get your schedule tomorrow, that will tell you where to go and when. Bring that one with you for sports activities, including fencing. You should have a swimsuit, too—here—for swimming.”

“I—I met the fencing instructor in the bathhouse. He seems kind,” I say quietly.

“Who, Rai?” Bardo asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “He spoke to you _kindly_? Did he figure out who you were or something?”

“Yeah, I introduced myself.”

“Huh, he must be excited to have you in his class, probably because of your parentage.”

“My parentage?”

“Yeah, he thinks you’re an excellent candidate.”

“Candidate? For what?” I’m confused.

“For a Sanga, of course. Why do you think this school even exists? Its purpose is to discover new and genuine _Sanga_. And he is sure you are the real deal—he’s been the most excited about your arrival, I think, of all the instructors.”

I don’t say anything, but he can’t be right about that. I never met my father—he died before I was born. I know he liked to sing—my mother told me that when I was young, but I’m sure he wasn’t a Sanga. She never said anything like that!

“Why would he think that? That can’t possibly be right. He must have me confused with someone else,” I say nervously. “Thanks for your help with the tie, and for the snack.”

Bardo looks at me carefully but doesn’t say anything else. “Don’t worry about it. Eat up now, and leave the tray outside your room when you’re done. There’s a place for dishes right at the end of the hallway.”

“Thank you,” I say, truly grateful, but also slightly embarrassed.

“You are a terribly innocent thing, aren’t you? I worry about you a little bit. I hope you can fit in here, Konoe. See you at dinner.”

Bardo gives me a warm smile, casually brushes my ears again, and leisurely walks out of the room, and I drop into the chair at my desk and dive into the sandwich. 

It’s really tasty—chicken and cheese with lots of fixings, and it includes a side of sliced kuim—my favorite. I eat the fruit first, actually. And the juice—my gods—is also freshly pressed kuim—sweet and then sour. I finish all of it, and when I’m done eating, even as tired as I am, I put away my belongings.

I didn’t bring much with me from home. Just my sword and a few trinkets from home, which I display on the top of my dresser—a ring of my father’s and a framed poem he wrote—and I put a few items of clothing in the dresser. I put my traveling gear away in the closet, and then lie down on the bed with the rule book.

It’s discouragingly heavy.

“Sisa’s School for Well-Rounded Ribika, Rules and Reg— Regu—Regulations?” I puzzle out the words on the front cover. There are a lot of pages. Gods, how am I ever going to get through this?

I open it up to the first page, and it says the same thing. One page down, over 100 to go. Shit.

I look at the next page. “Table of contents.” So this should give me a summary of what’s important. I keep reading. It takes _forever_.

“Mission statement. Academic standards of excellence. Dress code and uniform regulations. Code of conduct. Disciplinary committee. Staff list. Violations.”

Hmm. I give a big yawn and lay my head down on the book for just a moment. I never really learned to read well, so I mostly sound out the words—decoding them—instead of actually _reading_ them. That’s why this is taking so long. I close my eyes, and think—man, this bed is _really_ comfortable.

Before I know it, I hear a dinner gong, and I realize it's dark outside. It’s 8 pm! Damn—I fell asleep! I just took a four-hour nap—and I didn’t get through any of the rules. Shit! My shoes aren’t on! Thank gods they slip on and aren't lace-up! I grab my jacket and rush out of my room to dinner. I can’t be late my first day here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Bardo called him "honey."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes up late for dinner. (Yes, I will be posting chapter summaries. Skip them if you don't want spoilers.) He quite literally runs into his favorite new fencing instructor, and it's love at first sight. Rai falls for his innocence and helps him enter the room and avoid the disciplinary committee on his first day.
> 
> Things follow as you might expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First crossover between Dramatical Murder, when Koujaku makes his first appearance, as a fellow cat from Setsura. I want to delve into that a little deeper. I plan to add another crossover later, one I haven't added yet, who will fit in perfectly as the disciplinary committee.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE the updated tags. This is explicit and dub-con, as per most LBTV stuff (and hell, most N+C stuff), but it's not nearly so bad as the other stuff I've written. I tried to make this a little sweeter dub-con. 
> 
> Keep in mind what the other students might be thinking of a brand me student getting brand new treatment. That's coming next.
> 
> I'm really having fun with this one, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I am.
> 
> NOTE: If you see any tags I think I should add, please drop me a line. I'll add them! It's a weekend, and I'm rushing. And pardon the editing. :)

I rush downstairs and realize I don’t have a _clue_ where the dining hall is. Shit! I’m going to be late!

I look around, looking for a sign, a person, or anything when I notice just the tip of a bushy white tail slipping behind a corner. Was that Rai, the fencing instructor? I rush after him as fast as I can—and I am fast! I’m not really that talented at anything else, but my _speed_ —I’ve always been able to count on it!

I’m so fast, in fact, that I crash _right_ into him when I come barreling around the corner. I surprise the silver cat, but Rai's instincts are _amazing._ He’s much taller than I realized—the same height as Bardo in fact, and broad, too, though much leaner—and he is _agile_. Even before my body comes into contact, he is turned toward me, catching me in his arms and—lifting me up off the ground, bringing me to eye level—slamming me up against the wall. He knocks the wind from my lungs from the impact.

His fur bristles—making him look even bigger than he already is—probably because he’s surprised (or possibly angry?) at being startled. But now, here I am, returning his gaze, staring into his clear blue eye while his long hair spills around his shoulders, brushing softly against my face. My eyes are wide and blinking slowly, and I see his long sharp fangs are bared and peeking through his lips. I hadn’t noticed how full his lips were before because I haven’t seen him up close.

His eyelashes are white, lush and full like his fur—and he is really _glaring_ at me. I’m wishing the earth would swallow me up about now. Are _all_ my interactions with this cat doomed to fail like this? My tail droops, quivering between my legs, and my ears are folded back in fear. I find myself terribly intimidated, and even my hands are shaking.

“What the _hell_ do you think you are doing?” he growls, a puff of breath moves my hair a little bit when he speaks. Gods, even his breath is intoxicating. I find myself rather enraptured with this god of a cat before me, even though I realize that _neither_ of my feet can touch the ground and I’m still trembling.

“E-excuse m-me,” I stutter my attempt to apologize. “I-I’m s-so sorry. I d-didn’t mean to r-run into you so violently. I j-just d-didn’t want to be l-late on my first day.” I lower my eyes in shame.

After a short pause, his ruffled fur settles, and he looks slightly more composed, though his narrowed pupil seems to dilate more than I expect.

“No running in the hallways, even if you _are_ late for dinner. Although, you certainly _shouldn’t_ be late on your first day. The disciplinary committee would have a _field day_ , especially with someone like you. Come, enter with me and you should be fine.”

He releases me from his arms, letting me slide to the ground, and I’m again stunned by how much of a difference there is in our statures.

“You will have to make it up to me, however,” he says, casually.

I jerk my head up nervously, and my ears heat up.

“Join me for dinner,” the silver cat suggests, looking at me with a sidelong glance. He seems to be noticing my ears.

“Oh, uh, of course. Thank you.” I am filled with relief. It’s probably obvious from my tone. Although, as an instructor here, what else could he have asked of me? Why am I so nervous?

With that, the fencing instructor takes my hand and pulls me along behind him. He takes long strides with his long muscular legs, and we head to the dining hall. It’s a little strange to have my hand in his—I’m just not used to _any_ physical contact, but it’s apparently normal. With his gait is so much longer than mine, I struggle to keep up. A strange sensation crawls up my nape, tickling me and raising the fur on the back of my neck. What _is_ this feeling?

Rai throws open a set of double doors and waltzes in like he owns the place, and we are the last to arrive. The loud noise immediately assaults my ears, flattening them against my skull before they are able to scan the room. I've never seen so many cats crowded together! Rai tends to draw attention to himself wherever he goes, and with me on his arm, eyes are drawn to me as well. I can’t _stand_ having eyes on me, so I lower my face and watch Rai’s tail instead. I’m struck by how shiny his fur looks in the light—it looks silver, not white. But the smell in here— it’s delicious, and my stomach rumbles hungrily.

While I’m completely overwhelmed, I obediently follow behind the instructor who is approaching a round table toward the back of the room. However, before he takes a seat, unexpectedly he pulls out the chair in front of me, motions his hand, and says, “Please.”

He’s pulled out the chair for me. It’s a strange and unfamiliar gesture. I’m truly his guest, apparently. My face is hot—but still not quite as hot as my ears, and I glance up to his face for his approval—making sure it’s really all right for me to sit here. He meets my eyes with a quick smile, and he pushes the chair in behind me once I take my seat. I can feel the eyes behind me, boring into my back. I keep my eyes lowered to the table—the _delicious_ feast at the table—my gods, I’m _starving_ —and then I watch from the corner of my eye as Rai dramatically takes his own seat with the flourish of an experienced swordsman, I think—a certain noble elegance in his movements—silver hair fluttering dramatically around his body, shimmering in the low light of the dining hall. 

When I look around the room, I notice that there are two types of tables: rectangular tables with bench-style seats and several round tables. There are many more benches than the round tables like I’m currently occupying.

Rai leans over and speaks quietly into my ear—the difference in height makes it easy for him to do this. He simply tilts his head toward me, his mouth level with my ear—but it sends a little shiver traveling down my spine when he does. I try not to be obvious with my shivering, but I’m not sure if I succeed or not. “The bench seats are for students. Faculty and their guests sit at the round tables. The disciplinary committee also sits at a round table.” A slight touch to my shoulder tells me he noticed me shiver. Shit.

My ear twitches slightly to the touch of his lips—he doesn’t hesitate to touch me when he whispers in my ear. His lips feel really soft, and I try not to twitch my ear, but it’s a surprising touch. Additionally, when I look at the other place settings, there’s a difference in spacing. Mine has been drawn closer to his; in fact, it is  _much_ closer than any of the others at the table. Perhaps it's because I was an added guest. Or did he pull my place setting closer when I wasn’t looking?

My chair moves suddenly, and I jerk my head up. Rai has scooted my chair a little closer, but he doesn’t look at me, acting like it wasn’t him moving my chair. If it wasn’t him, then to the others at the table, it looks like I moved my own chair closer to his. I feel my ears heating up again.

Before I can move my chair back to where it was, a deep voice beside me says, “Rai, won’t you introduce us to your charming guest?”

I look to my right, and I’m stunned. The person sitting next to me is definitely _not_ a cat. His ears look weird—fleshy protrusions, slightly pointed, are growing out of the side of his head, and in place of ears on the top of his head like mine, where they are _supposed_ to be, he has shiny black horns, like those of a deer, curling up out of his hair. His hair is brilliant red—almost unnaturally so, reminding me of a flame. His eyes are a clear blue, however, and he is currently staring at me with an interested smile. He appears slightly older—he must be an instructor here. Age aside, his face is surprisingly pleasant to look at. I realize I ought to close my mouth. I hope it will just look like I was distracted by the food, and I find myself blushing _again_.

“Of course I will if you will give me a second and have a little patience. We did only _just_ arrive,” Rai’s voice sounds impatient and arrogant, and he flips a few errant silver strands over his shoulder. “ _This_ is our latest student, Konoe of Karou. Konoe, meet Razel. He teaches reading, writing, and literature.” Rai is _much_ more attractive than Razel, the creature next to me, I think. The more I look at Rai, the more attractive he seems, the more I feel drawn to him. I'm even attracted to the way he moves.

“Ah,” Razel replies. “So _this_ is Konoe. He is _much_ younger than I expected. However, I do see quite a few striking similarities. What say you, Verg?”

What? My _youth_ again? What is this? How old are the cats who attend this school, anyway? And similarities to whom or what? But I’m distracted at the mention of another new name, and I look to Razel’s right.

Next to him, there is another person who is also not a cat. That person is looking at me strangely—I would actually call it _leering_. He makes me terribly uncomfortable. He has short white hair, fleshy pointed ears, black horns, shaped like those of a bull, on top of his head, and his eyes are two different colors—grey and green—which makes it difficult to decide which one to look at when he speaks. His outfit is _extremely_ revealing. He is wearing a vest trimmed with fur and feathers, but his tan skin is on display for all to admire. I can clearly see his nipples, though I try not to look. The moment I notice, he seems to be _aware_ I’ve noticed, and he actually _grins_ at me. What the hell? He has a hungry look in his eye.

“Youth is a _wonderful_ thing, in my opinion,” Verg purrs—at least, I think that’s what Razel said his name was. “Little kitty, I’m Verg, and I’m more than happy to meet you. I’m really looking forward to getting to know _more_ and _more_  and even _more_ of you.” His voice sounds oddly suggestive, and it leaves a sticky, slimy sensation in my ears, and it makes me want to scratch at them and poke my fingers inside them, but I restrain myself. “If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more _pleasurable_ , please come to see me. I teach biology and science, among many, many other more… _practical_ things.”

Rai looks up at him and barks, “Back the fuck off, Verg. He’s only just arrived. This one is only 16.”

“Hou? I _adore_ them young. You can mold them to your liking! Or is that what _you_ have in mind, white kitty?”

“Shut up, bastard,” Rai snaps.

Rai is helping himself to the dishes in front of him and heaping food onto my plate as well. It looks like turkey, vegetables and potatoes, and bread. He leans over and whispers in my ear, “It can’t be helped. Ignore him. He’s always like this.”

I’m introduced to several others at the table as well—another not-cat person named Froud, who is wearing a severely black outfit and has shockingly green hair, and thick horns sticking out of the side of his head—he seems very cheerful. Oddly, both of his eyes are covered with his mask, and I don't see how he can possibly see out of it, but he seems to be checking me out thoroughly just the same. I didn’t catch his specialty, but I assume he is also a teacher.

There is another cat at the table as well, who seems very friendly, named Koujaku. He is young, about Rai’s age. I might have mistaken him for a student. He is quite attractive. In the same way that Rai is pale and handsome, Koujaku is darkly so. His skin has an olive tone, and his hair and fur are so dark it looks nearly purple. It’s also longhaired and full, similar to Rai’s. I wonder if they might be from the same village, in fact, since they have similarly shaped rounded ears. Koujaku’s eyes are maroon, framed with very dark, full, and long eyelashes. Not that I’m looking or noticing. (I'm not that kind of cat.) He teaches history and physical education as well. I notice he has a prominent scar on the bridge of his nose, which surprisingly adds to his good looks. And he has a beautiful smile, which is always on his face.

One of the strange similarities between Koujaku and Rai is that they both have their right eyes covered. Rai is wearing an eyepatch. Koujaku’s hair is long, and he wears it pulled in a ponytail over his left shoulder, leaving his bangs long and draped over the right side of his face, revealing only his left eye. It’s an odd coincidence, I think. I wonder—did the people of their village take the right eyes of their young? The horrible thought just pops into my head. While Koujaku's smile is warm and friendly, there's something almost _irresistible_ about that cool silver cat. I just can't quite place it.

The food is delicious, and I realize there is a _lot_ piled high on my plate, and I haven’t served myself anything. Froud laughs and comments in a teasing voice, “The white kitty must think you need a little more meat on your bones. Aren’t you from Karou? We’ve got to get you up to our standards here. You’ll need extra stamina to get through your training here. Plus, the upcoming season, of course.”

Season? The winter, he means, I assume? Am I _that_ thin? Do I look malnourished? And why does everyone know about me? I notice _all_ of the instructors seem to know about me. What do they know about me? It makes me curious. I open my mouth several times to ask about it but end up stuffing my face with food, because I don’t know how to phrase the question. Would it be weird to not know about my _own_ parents?

Plus, what if this silver cat has taken an interest in me because of some mistake? Wouldn’t I disappoint him? Might he lose interest in me once he learns of his mistake? I am enjoying his attention, quite a bit, in fact. The dinner is a little awkward, but because of this mistake, I _wasn’t_ late for dinner, _and_ I have a place to sit. Plus, I don’t mind being close to him, watching him eat, smelling his wonderful scent, listing to his nice voice and the conversation.

Rai and Koujaku seem to have a friendly rivalry of sorts—they talk of sparring earlier that afternoon and plans for tomorrow, and conversation flows naturally. I realize I _love_ hearing Rai’s voice. Every time he opens his mouth, I find myself turning toward him, and my ears tipping in his direction, even if he’s just joking with Koujaku about tomorrow’s class or today’s antics. Even while talking to Koujaku—or others at the table—he flashes his eyes at me occasionally. It makes me feel welcome like I am truly his guest.

Razel’s low voice rumbles at my side and asks if I have my schedule yet. 

“No, I was told I will receive it tomorrow, but I haven’t been told where or when.”  
  
“After breakfast, ask one of the students to show you to the registrar’s office. You can pick up your schedule there. I’m sure I’ll see you in one of my classes. Do you enjoy literature, young one?”

“Um, thank you,” I swallow my food with a gulp of ale from the glass in front of me. I think there may be alcohol in this drink, which surprises me—isn’t this a school? Is that safe? I haven’t ever had alcohol, but this is very good, and it seems to be aiding the conversation, though my face feels flushed. “I’m not very familiar with literature. I’ve never been to school before, and I’m not very good at reading. It’s one of the reasons I’m here. I’d like to learn to read better.” I say the words very quietly.

“That’s good,” Razel says kindly. “There is infinite wisdom in the world of books. You will learn much in my class. Did your parents teach you when you were young?” 

“My mother started to, of course, but she died when I was five. And my father passed before I was born,” I explain.

“I see. What about your caretakers?”

“I’ve been on my own, so I haven’t really had a chance to learn, except practicing a little now and then.” I realize I’m a little embarrassed, so I continue speaking quietly, but Rai looks up at my words.

“You’ve fended for yourself since you were five? Alone—in your own home—in Karou? Even during the time of the Void?” Rai asks.

“Yes. I had a small home with a small territory. It provided enough for me to get by, so I managed to survive.”

Razel asks, “The village cats didn’t help raise you?”

“No,” I explain. “Because of its remote location, Karou was hit fairly hard with the food shortage. In some ways, it still hasn’t yet recovered. I wonder if my home will be all right while I am away.”

“Wait,” Koujaku asks. “ _Not one_ cat from your village took you in after your mother passed? Didn’t you have any living relatives to help you? It was just you, alone?”  
  
“It was only me," I answer. "My mother was friends with the local trader, Tokino’s father, and he would check on me every moon to make sure I was all right. He offered to take me in, but Karou was my home. It was my mother’s home, and I was reluctant to leave her memory behind. Plus, I didn’t want to be a burden to another family, especially during such hard times.”

The table gets very quiet for a moment. I think I hear someone murmur, “I wonder if perhaps he doesn’t know.” I think it’s Froud. When I look at him, he asks, “Did you say you _never_ met your father?”

“That's correct. He passed away before I was born, so I never met him.”

“Ah, I see,” Froud says, and then he exchanges a knowing glance with Verg and Razel. What is this? Do they know something?

“It must have been very lonely, being on your own for so long,” Koujaku sympathetically. 

I suddenly feel a hand on my left leg. It has to be Rai’s hand, and I glance at him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. He is eating casually, holding his chopsticks in his left hand, acting like nothing out of the ordinary is happening, like it isn’t even _his_ hand touching me. It’s a very intimate touch—he’s actually _squeezing_ my thigh—and it’s _quite_ high on my leg, in fact— _really_ high on my leg—and he’s just eating like normal.

For just a second, he flashes his eyes at me, briefly making eye contact, commanding me not to make a sound. It’s a very controlling look. I realize this touch is similar to how he grabbed me outside the dining room when I accidentally bumped into him earlier. It’s on _his_ terms, and it’s all _his_ way—and it obviously declares  _his_  dominance. It’s _my_ job to shut up and keep quiet. The way he flashes his eyes is intimidating. I don’t think he will hurt me, but it feels that he could if he wanted to and that it is in my best interest to submit to his will. I don’t know how he manages to communicate all of this with just a single flash of his eyes, but he certainly does. Or maybe it’s all in my imagination.  
  
While I’m trying to decide of what to do, his hand slides up my leg just a _tiny_ bit further—almost touching my crotch—and I don’t know _what_ I’d do if he touched me there—gods—thinking about it makes me nearly pass out!—he squeezes just a little before releasing his hand. His pinky has brushed my crotch just a little, and I find myself breathless. When he lets go, I am experiencing weirdly mixed feelings. First, a sense of _relief_ washes over me, and I can finally _breathe_ again. Then second, I experience a _huge_ sense of _loss_ —almost as though his touch was actually _comforting_ me. As frightening as it was, the dominating touch of his hand was powerful and protective. I don’t understand the conflict going on inside me right now, and I’m more than a little stunned. I try to take a bite of food, but instead, I grab my drink and take another gulp. I glance at Rai, and he flashes me a small smile—just a slight one, showing me his teeth—and it looks almost _wicked_ , as though he knows my confused feelings exactly.

My ears are flushing, and even my chest feels hot, and I feel like I could use some fresh air. It’s suffocating in here. Didn’t Koujaku just say something? I should really respond. It’s been too long, and I don’t want to be rude. Rai prompts me, as though everything is normal.

“Wasn’t it hard, fending for yourself for all that time?” His voice sounds gentle and caring to my ears, just like it did in the bathhouse. After feeling his touch on my leg, I feel I’d really _like_ to have him touch me some _more_. The sound of his voice in my ear—it’s a really a _touch_  inside my ear— _deep_ inside my ear. I _love_ the way his voice sounds, and it makes my heart pound. It’s different from everyone else’s at the table. There’s something special about it like my ears _yearn_ to hear it. I wonder—have I been tilting my ears in his direction during dinner the entire evening?

“Um,” I find I’m stammering again. “I was used to it. Of course, it was hard to lose my mother, but it’s been so long now, I was quite used to living on my own.”  
  
“Perhaps you will find it difficult to live here, among so many other cats,” suggests Razel.

“Perhaps we _devils_ will be more your type,” Verg begins smoothly. Shit—he’s a devil? He and Razel and Froud—they are really _devils_? The gentle, soft, tender thoughts about Rai and his touch are rudely interrupted by this unpleasant realization. 

“I highly doubt that,” Rai says sharply, immediately cutting him off, his hand brushing my leg again, distracting me completely. I try to control my breath and find I cannot.

“Are you quite all right, little one?” Froud says. “Your ears are very red all of the sudden. Do you have a fever?”  
  
I feel a hand on my ears, brushing against them softly—it feels so cool and gentle—but the hand is large and feels so unfamiliar. 

“Do you need some fresh air?” Rai asks me. That pale blue eye—like the sky on a cloudless day—looks at me earnestly, making me think I can trust him. The pale lashes blink slowly—so long, so beautiful. I want to touch them. I want to feel them brushing against my cheek.

“Um,” I say, a little confused. Maybe he can help me. Is he going to go out there with me? Wait—just a minute. I’m not sure that’s a good idea. In fact—I _know_ it _isn’t_ a good idea— _not at all._ Panic starts to rise in my chest.

“Come,” Rai stands up from his chair and pulls my arm, almost harshly—his voice curt and controlling. “Can you walk?”

“Um, y-yes, I-I’m fine.” Suddenly, I’m afraid he might carry me out of the dining room, and I can't refuse. I’m pulled along behind him.

As I follow him, my face and ears burning, I feel eyes on me as we leave the dining hall. I’m causing a scene—I _know_ we are causing a scene—and _that’s_ the thing I hate most of all. I’m _so_ embarrassed. Rai simply keeps walking, completely unaffected—his long stride, large steps, unwavering, while I nearly stumble trying to keep up.

We walk down the hallway until we make it to an exit, and he pulls me through the door, just behind the dorm. It’s dark outside—and the fresh air feels cool on my skin. The sky is dark since the moon of light has not yet risen, but the stars scatter light in the sky, and I realize it’s the same sky I saw in Karou. Maybe I _was_ feeling a little faint.

However, the moment the door closes behind me, I find myself pushed up against the wall—and Rai’s body is pressed up against mine.

“ _Wait_ ,” I protest. “W-what are you doing?”

“Keep quiet,” Rai says, softly.

I feel something in my hair, and there’s a damp touch against my ear. What _is_ this? Is he—is he _licking_ me? What the hell?

I lift up my shoulder defensively, trying to tilt my head and escape his rough tongue and squirm out of his arms, using both hands to push against his chest, but it’s as effective as pushing against a brick wall. He is not going _anywhere_. This cat is _really_ strong. I mean—I _saw_ his naked chest in the bath just a few hours ago—and now my hands are touching it—I’m actually _touching_ the body I saw. A little shiver goes down my nape when the image of him under the fountain pops into my brain—and then—there’s the tongue assaulting my ear.

“Stop—stop it!” I continue my useless protests.

His tongue is _way_ rougher than mine—stronger, too—and I don’t understand what he is doing. Is he grooming me? Kissing me? What is this?

“Be still,” the controlling voice is speaking low and directly into my ear, stopping the assault for a moment. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

His hands grab mine, pinning them to the wall, making me feel even _more_ defenseless. His teeth graze the thin skin on the very tip of my ear just before my entire ear is sucked into his mouth. I stand on my tiptoes and try to squirm out of his grip—but really, it almost feels… _good_. His tongue enters the deepest part of my ear, tracing the downy fur on the inside. It sounds so strange—loud, squishy, intimate—like he’s _inside_ me. Rai—that giant silver cat—is _inside_ me. A shudder runs down my spine again, and I know he can feel my body shudder while I’m in his arms when he gently pulls my ear out of his mouth between his lips ever so slowly. I feel his fangs graze the skin of my ear when another shiver runs into my tail, making it fluff up and bristle. 

I’ve never had someone touch me this way. What is he doing? _Why_ is he doing this? Why is he touching me like _this_? And what about my reaction? I don’t understand this either—the shivering—there’s a _pleasure_ rushing through my body, settling in my hips and waist. While I’m _saying_ stop, I don’t know that is what I _really_ want him to do. There are strange sighs coming from me that I can’t seem to stifle. 

I’m really, _really_ scared. 

I’m _afraid_ of this touch, and even more afraid of my _reaction_ to it.

My hands are pinned overhead by one of his hands, and he uses his other hand to grab the base of my now-fluffed up tail—and it pulls another strange sound out of my mouth. I’ve never been touched there, either—and it’s too close to my ass, much too close to where all that pleasure is starting to pool. I start to say, “Stop,” but the word doesn’t come out right.

“You’ve never had someone touch you like this,” he whispers, also into my ear.

I shake my head no, trying to shake him off of me, but he presses against me, switching to the other ear, grooming it in the same rough way.

“If you weren’t tempting me like this so obviously, so publicly, and this wouldn’t have to happen,” his voice is almost growling.

What? _Tempting_ him? I didn’t do anything!

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. “I haven’t done _anything_. I haven’t done _anything_ on purpose!” I’m starting to feel a little desperate—especially when I feel the hand at the base of my tail traveling out toward the hooked end. It’s _way_ too sensitive, and it's making my knees feel weak. “Let me go— _please_ —let me go!”

“Why were you blushing like that—at dinner—in front of a roomful of strangers? You’ve been blushing at me since I first _met_ you. And you’ve been staring at me with those large, innocent eyes of yours—checking me out like it’s the natural thing to do. But these pink ears are just _asking_ for this kind of attention.”

My ears are licked again, and I shiver helplessly.

“And the way you shiver when I even _glance_ your direction? You shiver every time I even _look_ at you. You couldn’t _be_ more obvious with what you want, little one. What did you expect would happen?”

 _Not this._ I didn’t expect this. I wasn’t expecting anything. What I _want_? What is he talking about? My brain starts to feel a little hazy.

“ _Please_ ,” I beg, lifting my shoulder up to try to protect myself and gritting my teeth. "I'm not asking for anything—I don't blush on purpose—I can't h-help it— _please_ —I didn't mean to shiver—"

He is _frightening_ me.

“You need to learn first and foremost _not_ to flirt with your instructors—at least not _quite_ so obviously—at the dinner table. There’s such thing as _time_ , _place_ , and _opportunity_. You want to be _very_ careful that you _don’t_ bite off more than you can chew, and tonight, you’ll learn the consequences of what happens when you do just that. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since I saw you in the bathhouse. After that, you had the gall to run me down in the hallway just before dinner.”

“Th-that was an _accident_!” I exclaim. “ _Please_! I-I overslept, and I was r-running late. I t-truly d-didn’t mean anything by it!”

“You didn’t _mean_ anything? Are you saying you didn’t _want_ to sit with me at dinner?” He lifts up my chin, looking me directly in the eyes with his sharp, pale blue eye. He is so handsome it physically hurts my chest.

“I-I didn’t _mean_ to inconvenience you,” I say, dropping my gaze. " _Please_." I can't stop pleading. 

He jerks my chin up suddenly, and that scares me enough to return his gaze.

“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice is sharp.

“I _did_ want to sit with you. I enjoy your company very much, and I don’t know anybody else here.” I am speaking in a very quiet voice, but I am making eye contact.

“Now you’re being more honest, at least. I believe I can trust what you’re saying. Because—you see—your body is responding to me. I saw it at dinner, too. Your ears turn toward my voice every time I speak—before I even open my mouth. Your pupils dilate to the sound of my voice. You even watch me eat. Why do you think that is?”

I start to get very, _very_ uncomfortable, and I am so scared he’s going to notice that I’m trembling. My body is covered in a fine layer of sweat.

“I wouldn't know.”  
  
“Oh, but I think you _do_ , little one, and for the same reason I can feel you trembling in my arms right now.”

Damn it! My ears flush hotly, and his eyes look at them, and his pupil suddenly dilates. My breath catches when I see it, and he dips his head to lick my ears again.

I hear him murmuring, “ _Pink_ ears—a cat with _pink_ ears. Mmm, I wonder, do they _match_?”

I almost want to ask: if _what_ matches? But then, the more I consider the question, the more I think I _don’t_ want to know. I'm mortified when I realize what he _may_ be referring to. What _other_ parts of me might be pink right now?

Suddenly, I realize I am correct in my assumption, even as inexperienced as I am, and my stomach drops to my feet. The hand pinning my wrists against the wall releases them, sliding down my body and stopping at my waist—and it touches me _exactly_ at the place I was _afraid_ he was thinking might “match” my ears—the only _other_ place on my body that might be filled with blood and pink about now. Oh, gods—really? Is this _really_ happening? 

And yeah, I’m hard. Of course, I am. If my body is stroked and grabbed like this, who wouldn’t be in this state? Well—I don’t know—was that _just_ grooming? Was he just _grooming_ my ears? It sure as hell didn’t _feel_ like grooming and the dirty way he was talking sure didn’t _sound_ like it. It was _hot_. Shivers are still running through my body and another violent one shoots through me right now. He almost seems to expect my reaction.

Plus, he is one _hell_ of an attractive cat. And no one has _ever_ touched me there before. He flattens his palm out against my crotch and presses his hand over the top of my clothes, and my body jerks violently. A strange moan comes from my mouth—and it’s _so_ embarrassing, but I can’t stifle it, even when I shove my hands over my mouth to shut myself up. It feels so _good_ , but so strange at the same time. My face and ears are burning.

“Oh, ho,” comes a near whisper. “No one has touched you here before, either? Don’t you touch yourself sometimes? I was wondering—didn’t you touch yourself _today,_ after your bath? Isn’t _that_ why you were running late for dinner? Maybe you spent a little too much time touching and then slept a little _too_ soundly?” 

I inhale sharply, shocked he would say such a thing. It’s _so_ dirty!

“ _Did_ you?” his demanding whisper asks again, and worse, he backs up a little, daring to meet my eye—my face is bright red now. He looks at me, actually expecting an answer from me.

My body is trembling with pleasure and shame—and I violently shake my head, unable to give him an audible answer. My eyes are wide, and I think they fill with tears.

“Such an innocent—to match this innocent face,” he marvels. “Didn’t it ever _occur_ to you?” He moves his hand just slightly, and my body melts against his hand like he’s controlling me. What is he _doing_ to me? But do I hate it? Or love it? I can’t tell, but my voice is surely indicating _extreme_ pleasure.

“ _Please_ —st—aaaahhhh….” My protest ends with an extended sigh when Rai’s hand moves again, leaving me breathless. “ _Please_!” I look up at him with tears flooding my eyes.

“Please _what_? Please _more_?” He raises his eyebrows and then examines my face a little more carefully. The hand grasping my tail moves to my cheek, and he brushes at the tears, threatening to fall from the corners of my eyes. “Such innocence. You have no _idea_ how dangerous this look is.”

I don’t understand. What is he saying?  
  
“What do you even _want_ from me?” It sounds like a desperate sob squeezed from my throat. My body trembles when he moves his hand, and he pulls another obscene sound from my body. 

Tilting my chin up slightly with his hand, he lowers his lips to mine, gently pressing them together. He repeats the motion several times and then moves his hand from my chin to my nape. His lips are soft and _warm_ —when I feel them on mine, playfully nipping both my top and bottom lips, and his tongue gently traces the shape of my teeth. He pulls his mouth away and steals my lips again right away, which surprises me. I expect him to take me forcefully, attacking my mouth like he did my ears, controlling me, invading me, but that isn't what he does. This is sensual and almost sneaky, and I find myself entranced and seduced, and my resistance crumbles. When I feel gentle pressure on the back of my neck, pressing my lips to his, I open my mouth just enough to allow his tongue to slip inside.

When his tongue rubs against mine, the strange sensation heats up even more. An electric shock courses down my spine, pooling heavily at my waist—and my mouth opens wider still. His tongue explores my fangs, repeatedly rubbing over my tongue, even caressing the back of my throat, which makes a sticky-sounding, embarrassingly wet purr to resound in spite of myself. The smooth muscle of his tongue feels long and lean—just like the rest of him—and it fits in my mouth perfectly. I’m shocked at how hot he feels, and how much I want to feel _more_ of his touch, more of him. His fangs click softly against mine at first, but when I return his kiss, I start clicking our teeth together myself. I’m a little clumsy at first, and I feel saliva spilling down the corner of my mouth, and I can feel a thin line dripping down my neck, under my shirt, and down my chest, but I don’t care about that. His fangs are much larger and sharper than mine when I brush my tongue against them. He starts purring, too, and his strong purr rumbles within his entire body, vibrating in my bones, making me feel so good, and my knees go weak. Or is this all just from the kiss? 

This is the first time I’ve been kissed, and I don’t want to stop. I find my hands wrapped around his neck and wound in his hair—soft and silky to the touch, even softer and smoother than it looks—and I’m unable to stop myself from touching him. I hear my heart thumping in my ears and pounding in my chest. I wonder, can he hear my heart beating, too?

His ears are soft and fuzzy to the touch, fluffy from excitement. I want to lick them, but I can't reach, and I'd rather die than break this kiss. His arm wraps around my body, pulling me in closer, and that other hand—gods—it stays where it is over the front of my trousers—stroking me—and I’m making the most obscene-sounding sighs right into his mouth, trembling and shaking in his arms like I have no shame whatsoever.

I feel him smile when he wildly pushes me up against the wall and untucks my shirt. I inhale sharply in surprise, a cool breeze kissing my skin, confused for a moment, wanting to ask what he’s doing, but he will hardly let me breathe, much less let me ask any questions.

Both hands come up underneath the fabric of my shirt, feeling slightly cold against my sweating skin, and he smoothes them across my belly, skimming the soft fur below my navel with his thumbs and quickly moving up my chest and caressing my nipples, spending a little time there, pulling more strange sounds from me while we kiss. He wraps his hands around my back, then brings them smoothly back to my belly again, repeating the same motion several times, leaving me out of breath and panting. His hands feel calloused against the smooth skin of my chest and belly. It’s probably from holding a sword. I can’t tell if he’s right- or left-handed from the touch of his hands.

He pulls me closer by my waistband, and I hear the clinking of my belt, and he swiftly unbuttons my pants and yanks down my zipper. I start to feel very nervous, my knees weak and legs shaking.

What is he doing? He can’t—he isn’t going to—

A hand sinks into my trousers, first over my underwear, which is shamefully damp with sweat and probably something else—and then slips under the waistband of my underwear, pulling me closer, even as I half-heartedly try to pull away in shyness and trepidation. Once his hand touches my bare skin, however, my efforts to pull away fail completely.

He keeps kissing me all the while, deeply, while I’m purring, sighing, and practically _moaning_ into his mouth—and when I feel his hand caress my exposed cock—which is so aroused I’m almost painfully stiff—I feel nearly ready to explode, simply because this beautiful cat _wants_  to touch me. My body shudders violently, and I gasp aloud into his mouth. I'm so aroused my stomach hurts, and when his hand brushes me, I accidentally sink my fangs into his bottom lip in shock. I don't know what to do with myself at this point: my arms grasp his hair with both hands, probably painfully, tears leak from my eyes, and my toes are curling in my shoes, holding me to the ground, trying to keep me connected to earth and to reality.

Why? Why is he _touching_ me? Why is he touching _me_? 

When he wraps his fingers around my shaft—I feel each one of his fingers wrap around me, and his hand is so much larger than mine—it's such a lovely sensation, like I fit perfectly there in his palm—he presses his thumb into the head of my dick, and my shoulders start to shake uncontrollably and my knees give out completely. I cry out in pleasure.

I feel his teeth against my mouth, as his soft lips stiffen into a grin, and in that commanding voice, he whispers against my lips, “Already _this_ excited, little one? Just go ahead and _come_ , Konoe.” And he kisses me deeply, squeezing my cock with his hand.

He easily catches me with his other arm—but I don’t even notice, because a sudden surge is tearing through my body like nothing I’ve experienced in my life. My entire vision is filled with _him_ —his pale face, his silver fur, his silver hair, that blue eye—and a shudder of terrifying pleasure shoots through my body as I shoot my cum into his fist. I whine loudly into his mouth, grabbing onto his arms for support, unintentionally pulling his hair—and I lose my mind for just a second—I’ve _never_ felt anything as intense as this, it's almost frightening, and for a moment I think I might be going crazy—and shiver after shiver rushes through my body from my waist through my spine out to my tail and up through my ears and out to my limbs, waves of indulgence take over my body.  

I’m left a mess of sweaty fur, frantically sucking his lips, sloppily licking his tongue, holding his face with my hands, and I’m in tears—when I’m finally finished. I don't even realize I'm no longer standing on my feet. My heart feels like it burst. 

“Feel better?” I see his beautiful smile as he strokes my hair and ears gently, and he tenderly kisses my lips—first my top lip, then the bottom—and then both cheeks, and both my eyes—first one eyelid, then the other—and the tip of my nose, my chin, and my forehead. It’s a terribly sweet gesture—one that makes my chest ache painfully, and it squeezes a few more tears from my eyes. 

What was this?

I hear a rustling sound and I feel something on my stomach—it’s fabric, I think—is that a handkerchief? Rai has pulled out a hanky and is wiping my stomach, and fixing my clothes, while I’m still resting, still, almost paralyzed—unable to move—in his arms.

I really  _can’t_ move for a moment—and then a rush of guilt and embarrassment washes over me, like a bucket of ice water, when I realize what’s just happened, and what I’ve just done, the sounds I was making, the state I let myself be seen in, and what is  _currently_ happening. Gods—and by whom!

“Wait, no—you don’t have to—I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to—uh—oh my gods—I am so sorry,” I am flushing madly, my ears are filled with blood.

“Shush,” Rai says quietly. “It’s done. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're all cleaned up.” He is finished now, my clothes are fixed, and nothing is out of place. He gently brushes my bangs out of my eyes—my hair is awfully sweaty. “Was this your first time?”

“Um, yes. I’ve… never done anything _like_ this.” I feel so ashamed I can’t even look at him.

“Well then, why don’t you save this kind of thing for me, in the future?” Rai murmurs in my ear. “Which room is yours?”

“I’m sorry?” I ask, a little confused. Save this kind of thing for him? Is that what he said? Isn't he mortified by my behavior? Disgusted with me?

“Your room number. Which dorm room is yours?”

“Um, five.”

I lose my orientation for a moment—quite suddenly—and I realize it’s because Rai has lifted me up in his arms.

“Oh—ah—you don’t have to—“

“It’s fine,” he whispers into my ear. “Hush.” His voice maintains that certain controlling quality that sends another little shiver through my body. It sounds _just_ like when he told me to come. Gods—did he really tell me to do that? Gods! But... does he plan to do this again? With me? Another shiver runs through my tail, fluffing it up fully.

“Are you cold?” Rai asks.

“Oh, no,” I say. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

Once we get to my room, I realize exactly how tired I am once Rai sets me down on the bed. I want to curl up and go right to sleep, but Rai pulls off my shoes and socks, helps me out of my blazer, and more embarrassingly still, starts helping me out of my clothes.

“No—you don’t have to—“

“Little one, you were just going to sleep in your clothes, weren’t you?” 

I don’t say anything, but he tilts my chin up sharply. “ _Let me_. This is nothing to be embarrassed about.” That controlling voice again, and another nice little shiver. I'll never be able to hear it again without thinking about... _that_. But maybe we can do it again? I need to stop thinking about it.

He pulls off my vest over my head and drapes it over the back of the chair, and then loosens my tie. He seems to realize I don’t know how to tie the tie without me having to say anything. Then, he unbuttons my shirt and drapes it carefully over the chair as well, and pulls off my trousers, leaving me shivering in my underclothes. 

I curl up just like that on top the bed, wrapping my tail around myself, but he rolls me to one side and pulls down the covers for me, and then pushes me back to the middle, tucking me in snuggly. He gives me a look and says, "You can't sleep outside the blankets here. Unless you want me to sleep with you? You'd probably be warm enough outside the blankets if I slept with you."

"Wh-what?" A shocked sound comes out of my mouth, and I freeze. I have to meet his eye to gauge his seriousness. Is that allowed here? Is what we did allowed? Is that something we're allowed to do again?

He smiles gently. "You need your rest, and it's your first night here. As much as I'd love to, it probably wouldn't be a good idea."

He turns off the light in my room. It looks like he’s about to leave, but he comes back to the bed and sits on the side for a moment.

He doesn’t climb under the covers, but instead curls up behind me—and he is so warm—his large body feels so warm and comforting behind me—and starts grooming my ears, using long, slow strokes—very differently from how he was licking them earlier after dinner. It’s hypnotizing and somehow very nostalgic, but I can’t quite place it. I’m too tired to think too much about it and too tired to complain or protest. This kind of grooming feels so nice, and I relax, stretching out a little more. He licks one ear first—so carefully, so slowly, so gently—covering each area multiple times, righting all the fur even better than I ever could, and I feel so… well cared for. It’s such a strange sensation. It feels like home. I feel… _loved_.

I can feel a different sort of purr—contented and sleepy—rising up from the core of my being. It makes me relaxed, calms me down, even calms my embarrassment and gets that permanent blush out of my ears. Rai's grooming lulls me to sleep. I'm out before he finishes my other ear, though it can’t be much past 10 pm, which is still pretty early for Ribika, and very early for me.

It’s been a day of very new experiences for me. I sleep _very_ soundly. Rai locks my door on his way out, closing it behind him when he leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai's POV, while grooming his new student. Konoe is sleeping.
> 
> Fluffy.
> 
> Unfortunately, he bumps into another student when he leaves Konoe's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rai is probably going to be a little OOC in this fanfic, but I think I can make it work. I want it to have a sweeter feel, so that's why I'm going this way. Give it a chance, and I'd love to hear what you think--even if you think it doesn't work.

He’s a _student_.

A very _young_ student.

It’s what I tell myself when I tuck the blankets around this soundly sleeping body.I just never expected I’d find myself affected in this way.

Bardo has been warning me for years, nagging me about it season after season. His annoying voice echoes in my head: “Rai, _find_ someone. Rai, for more than just the mating season. It will be a _positive_ experience. Even if it doesn’t last forever, it will be a growing experience for you. Rai, you will learn things about yourself you didn’t know. Rai, it will strengthen your soul and your heart in addition to your body and mind.”

But I never realized it would feel like _this_. I didn’t know _I_ could feel like this. There’s a sort of protectiveness—a _possessiveness—_ when he’s around me. Is it that innocent face? His expression? Those wide eyes? Those adorable blushing ears? Gods— _pink ears_. I’ve never even _heard_ of such a thing.

I’m finding it hard to pull away from them, even now, so I’m compelled to groom them— _again_ andthoroughly, letting my tongue glide over that soft skin once more, as if to commit it to memory, memorizing their shape. They really _are_ a strange shape and size—much too large for his head, almost as though he hasn’t grown into them yet. But at 16, he isn’t going to grow much more, so they give him a childish appearance. Is it because they are so different from my own, which are small and rounded? Is _that_ why I find them irresistible? The tips are a gentle caramel color, the soft fur hidden inside is white, silky, and downy—truly sweet and virginal.

I find this boy more captivating than any female I’ve ever encountered. Perhaps it’s because of my expectations. I can feel it in my bones: this kitten, I _know_ he is a genuine Sanga. I can hear it in his voice—in those sweet, uncontrolled moans and sighs—especially when he stopped trying to stifle his voice and simply let himself go. That voice—it echoes in my heart, not just in my ears. What will it sound like when he sings? What will it sound like when he sings for _me_? 

The thought of him singing for any cat _but_ me fills me with an insane jealousy, bordering on madness—something else I’ve never experienced. This actually frightens me a little. I don’t _like_ being at the mercy of another cat’s actions. He’s attending school here after all, and frankly, I won’t be able to keep eyes on him at all times. He’s bound to attract attention. I was _right_ to touch him like I did today. I think I was _right_ to steal his first experience, despite the tiny bit of guilt I felt at the time. Perhaps it was a little early—but if he really didn’t like it, he could have resisted. Plus, he seemed to be chasing me in the hallway. The physical attraction—it’s obviously mutual. I may have manipulated him a little, of course. My experience, the difference in our ages and stature—but still, he didn’t bite me or try to get away.

Actually, he _did_ bite me. I touch my bottom lip, which is slightly swollen still. I smile at the memory. It was right when he came—and I can’t believe that was _all_ it took for him to climax. I wonder—was that his first time _ever_? A shiver runs all the way down to the tip of my tail, making my fur fluff up, thinking that I witnessed such a thing. No—I didn’t “witness” it. I _caused_ it. All he needed was a little prompting and my hand on his bare skin. He seems to thrive on my command, in fact, almost like he was waiting for my permission. Could he really be that submissive? The thought fills me with a passion that runs straight to my hips, and I pull his tight little body a little closer to me.

As much as I hate to admit that anything the damned yellow demon says approaches the truth, I agree that youth and inexperience can work in your favor. And yes, I _am_ planning to mold this kitten into _exactly_ what I want. I’m just pissed that damned demon saw right through me. Although, what was I expecting from the devil of pleasure? I’ll need to be sure to keep him far away that demon—from _all_ the demons—but how? He will be their student, and since he’s never attended school before, I’m sure he will require remedial help. What can I do to keep an eye on him?

He must have had an exhausting day, what with traveling so far, his first experience around so many other cats, and then spending time with me—in that way. I think about when I first laid eyes on him. He was playing in the fountain, and I knew, at  _that_ moment, who he was, and that he was the _one_. Such a ridiculous kitten—the pure joy lighting up his face and showing so obviously in his body—his tail waving around playfully, his ears perked up, his attention completely focused on the fountain, as though he’d never seen anything so beautiful, completely captivated. I found myself instantly captivated by his youthful innocence, despite my better judgment. I couldn’t help it. Never having experience such freedom, I felt a stab of envy. Do I envy his innocence? Do I want mine back, somehow?

And then—how he fluffed up his fur in indignation and anger when he discovered me watching—gods—how adorable! Another glimpse of how irresistible he is. Although, in the corner of my heart, I wonder if am I setting him (or myself) up to fail. What if he can’t meet my high expectations? What if he _isn’t_ the genuine Sanga I expect? What if he is, and he chooses to bond with another Touga? Perhaps I shouldn’t think too far ahead. Maybe I should take things one day at a time, and use this as a learning experience, like the old man has urged. Right here, right now, it sure feels good. My heart feels strangely satisfied. This little cat is filling a hole I didn’t even know was there.

I take a moment to run my fingers through his hair before I lower my mouth to his jaw and cheek to continue my slow, gentle grooming. Incidentally, I’ve never groomed another cat like this before, but I feel the need to do it now. His face still feels warm, and I worry he will run a fever tomorrow if I don’t give him a little aftercare. It was something the old man told me long ago when I first went into heat the first time. “Rai, make sure to provide good grooming as aftercare to sensitive cats, males or females, after any activities. It’s the right thing to do, and it makes you a considerate lover.”

While I’ve done this with other cats, I haven’t ever been concerned about being a “considerate lover” before today. I haven’t cared enough to wonder what qualified as “sensitive.” This one kitten definitely is, and I care. I probably care more than is good for either of us. His sensitivity is something that showed itself right away—how he wears his emotions on his face for the entire world to see. It’s such a strange thing. Is it because he’s been so isolated? His story at dinner—fending for himself since he was only five? I can’t believe such an innocent could ever have survived. Maybe _because_ he was so isolated he was able to keep his innocence. I can’t believe he survived the time of the Void. I was about the same age when my parents were slaughtered before my eyes, and Bardo took me in, and I could not have fended for myself then. I consider myself to be strong now, but back then? I would not have survived.

Just thinking about it makes my heart ache. My tongue moves along the kitten’s chin and lips. He has such nice lips—full, plush, soft. Surprisingly warm and welcoming. I was delighted with his _more_ than enthusiastic response to our kissing earlier—I’d almost call it desperate, in fact—and I smile remembering it. As I’m grooming him, I can’t resist bringing my lips to his once more to steal just _one_ more gentle, chaste kiss while he sleeps. He murmurs sweetly, and his body melts a little closer to mine—gods, this cat! What am I going to do?

He is a student here. Should I even be doing this?

I know many other instructors have relationships with their students. I should probably talk to Koujaku tomorrow. I know he has a student who is currently showing interest (well, I am sure there are _several_  students)—but I don’t know how far he has taken things. I’ve only ever refused students before, kindly stating I was flattered but uninterested—but not because of school rules. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about school rules. They need me more than I need them.

I would, however, prefer to keep this little one out of trouble, if possible, and out of sight of the disciplinary committee. So I’ll get Koujaku’s opinion. But I won’t be backing down. And perhaps having another set of eyes on him would be a good idea.

My tongue has just finished Konoe’s other cheek, and I’m tempted to groom his nape and neck, but I’d better get out of here before I find myself wanting to spend the night. That probably wouldn’t be good for him, either. I’d hate to put him in an awkward position of being a teacher’s pet before classes even begin.

Right after thinking that, I find myself licking his neck, and I cave in and groom his nape as well. Goosebumps shiver down the kitten's compact body, and as I’m cradling him in my arms, I feel him trembling, even in his sleep. Gods, he’s cute. Out of curiosity, I move my arms across his chest, sliding my hands down his sides—on top of the blankets, of course, to keep things chaste and also to keep myself under at least a modicum of control—I keep moving my hands down lower. I wonder what he might be dreaming about?

Oh, ho! It must be nice to be young! He’s hard _again_ —and _not_ just half-hard, either. I grin into the back of his neck. I lean over his shoulder a little, and a _really_ bad idea pops into my head. Hmm. I can’t help it—he just brings out the most possessive part in me, even in his sleep.

He’s sound asleep, so he won’t even know. He stays dressed in his undershirt and underwear, and I’m still grooming him gently. I remove my hands from his crotch, so as not to wake him. Turning his body around in my arms, I move my mouth over his shoulder to the front of his neck. I stretch out the collar of his undershirt, enough to expose his collarbone. It’s so very delicate—I saw it in the bathhouse earlier—it’s such a beautiful part of him.

I don’t really know what has come over me—but I bring my mouth down on his clavicle, close to his sternum—and I open my lips. I start licking him, but then, I start nipping with my fangs, gently at first. I close my lips around the area and suck and bite a little more firmly, intentionally leaving a love bite. When he wakes in the morning, getting dressed, he will discover this mark on his skin, which marks him as my property. If another cat should lay hands on him, they will back off.

I really don’t know what’s come over me—I’ve never done something like this. But I feel compelled, and I can't seem to stop myself.

The small cat definitely feels the pressure, and he is squirming slightly in my arms, and I _try_ to be gentle, but I’m actually biting him. Amazingly, he still doesn’t wake. I caress his ears at the same time to soothe him, and I wonder if he will remember a strange dream in the morning, and I find myself strangely aroused. Suddenly I think I’d better get the _hell_ out of here before I do something worse— much worse—to this beautiful, defenseless creature lying in my arms.

Once the bite is a deep, dark shade of purple, I reluctantly pull away, fix his undershirt, and tuck him back under the covers. When I get up from the bed, he murmurs a soft complaint, as though he’s asking me to stay put. It’s _exceedingly_ difficult to leave—but I worry that if I stay, I might actually do something I will regret. I’d better get back to my own room and take care of my own needs, which have grown rather pressing.

After getting up from the bed, I return to his side to lick his ears just one more time, and then again to adjust the blankets, making sure he is tucked in appropriately and will sleep soundly even if I'm not here to keep him warm. _What the hell am I doing?_ This is _ridiculous_. I'm acting like an _idiot_.

Listening at the door—I don’t sense anyone in the hallway—I lock it from the inside. I would _hate_ for anyone to enter while he is sleeping so peacefully, so defenselessly. The _only_ one permitted to molest this adorable creature while he is sleeping is _me_. I look over my shoulder one last time before I close the door without a sound, and I leave, feeling a strange sense of loss, another new experience for me.

I head down the hallway to the stairs, and I come face-to-face with one of my students, Noiz. He is locking the door behind him, and he has a guilty look on his face. He’s not a bad student—once of my better students, in fact— _and_ he is one of the students I gently rejected only last month. His face shows surprise to encounter me here in the student dorm. I do not show surprise, looking at him neutrally.

“Good evening, Noiz,” I say, in my usual cool tone.

“Good evening, Sensei,” he replies, glancing up at me with lime green eyes slightly suspicious, his short strawberry blonde fur slightly ruffled.

“Are you staying out of trouble?” I ask. “Why is your fur all ruffled like that?”

“Oh—I wasn’t doing anything,” he says defensively, meaning he most certainly was doing something. It seems I caught him coming out of a room that wasn’t his own.

“Are you headed back to your own room?” I ask.

“I am,” he says, still eyeing me curiously. “But more importantly, why are _you_ in the student dorm, Sensei?”

“One of our new students fell ill during dinner,” I say easily. “I helped return him to his room after getting a little fresh air.”

“I see,” Noiz says. Quietly, under his breath, I’m pretty sure I hear him say, “Is _that_ what we’re calling it these days?”

I grab him by the collar in a flash and slam him up against the wall. “ _What_ did you just say? If you have something you want to say, at least have the balls to tell me  _directly_ to my face.”

The student’s eyes widen, his tail and ears droop, and his fur fluffs out in fear. He is _terribly_ intimidated. Perhaps I didn’t need to be so rough, but a teacher is only as good as his word, and I need to garner respect. I am at least a head taller than this student, if not even taller, so I’m going to milk it for all its worth.

“I apologize, Sensei. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I look into both of his eyes carefully, bringing my face close to his. “Why don’t you go back to your own room? I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” I release his collar. “Sweet dreams,” I say archly.

A little confused, Noiz glances at me over his shoulder before he scurries down the hallway.

I sigh and continue back to my own room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes well-rested the next morning and is a little surprised to find a "gift" from the fencing instructor. He heads down to breakfast a little flustered with his friend Tokino, who proves to be a bit of a gossip.

I wake before the breakfast bell, managing to get myself out of bed after a nice long stretch. Rai has left my tie tied, and my uniform is neat and tidy. I slept _incredibly_ soundly—better than I’ve ever slept, I think—and I wake really well-rested. My body feels weirdly heavy, though, so I think a nice meal is in order, and some tea will probably help.

I don’t really want to remember what happened yesterday—it feels like it was all a dream or my imagination—and I am hoping I don’t run into the fencing instructor in the dining hall. I don’t remember when he left my room last night. I can still smell his scent on me while I'm getting changed—on my hair and on my upper body—he must have groomed more than just my ears last night, and it freaks me out a little to think he was doing this will I was sleeping. I was exhausted, but the fact that I was relaxed enough to fall asleep in his arms is a little... ugh! I was defenseless, and he could have taken advantage. How embarrassing!

But then, sleeping in front of him is really the  _least_ of my worries, isn't it?

Jeez! I shudder thinking about it—well, if I'm honest, it's probably really more like a shiver of pleasure, but I'm not feeling very honest this morning. Remembering what went on behind the dorm, just after dinner— _that’s_ what I should be embarrassed about! Gods, what if someone _saw_ us?!

While I’m changing my undershirt, I happen to glance in the mirror. There’s a bruise on my collarbone that definitely was _not_ there yesterday. What the hell _is_ that? It stands out obviously on my pale skin—right on my clavicle, close to my breastbone, _barely_ covered by the collar of my undershirt, which is why I didn't see it when I first got up. Is that a _bite_? I step a little closer to the mirror, I definitely detect fang marks. The closer I look, the more it dawns on me—Rai must have left this on me while I was sleeping. He didn’t do this to me while I was awake—I would have felt it, I'm sure. He _marked_ me—he marked my body as if to say, _I was here. Don’t forget—remember what we did yesterday._

Like I _could_ forget any of that! Shit!

If I have to change clothes for PE today, this is going to be a serious problem. How am I going to explain this? Gods, what if I have swimming? I won’t be able to cover it up! What the fuck was he _thinking_?!

I’m blushing furiously as I try to button my shirt—and the fact that I know that mark is there, waiting to expose itself and the activities from last night, flusters me enough to make me misalign the buttons on my shirt. I have to start over, _twice_. I'm really not usually this clumsy. I keep checking in the mirror to make _sure_ it doesn’t show. I’m totally rattled, stumbling over my shoes and socks, and I grab my bag in a hurry, so as not to be late, and I throw open my door and rush out, forgetting to look where I'm going.

I bump right into another cat on my way out the door, and it startles me. I immediately remember the incident last night—when I ran into Rai, and he threw me up against the wall—I bristle my fur in surprise, my tail fluffs up. I’m sure I surprise the other cat, too, but he looks down at me with his bright blue eyes and a familiar puff of orange hair and gives me his usual smile. Thank gods! It’s Tokino!

“Good morning, Konoe!” He’s as cheerful as ever. “Oh—is this your room? We’re almost neighbors! I didn’t even realize! I missed you at dinner last night! It seems you have some things to _tell_ me.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me along behind him, even before I have a chance to settle my fur.

He starts speaking to me in a much lower voice. “Now, Konoe, after I dropped you off in front of the dorms yesterday, you must have checked in without any problems. At dinner, your first night here, I saw you sitting at the _instructors_ ’ table—and not just _any_ instructors’ table. You came in on the fencing instructor’s arm—with _Rai-Sensei_. Care to _explain_?” His ears are perked up curiously, and he is grinning from ear to ear.

Before I get a chance to answer—I’m trying to come up with something without stammering—I’m still _really_ flustered about that love bite—and I realize there's a blush rising to my face and my ears. Tokino continues in that low voice.

“It’s not enough that one of the best students in the class has been pursuing him—and he’s good-looking, too—but _you’ve_ been at school for less than four hours and get him take you into dinner, sit really close to him, _and_  then he even dragged you out in the middle of the meal to do the gods only _know_ what.”

He stops me in the hall and turns to me, peering down at me closely. “What _exactly_ did he do? Where did he take you in such a hurry? Why did he drag you out of the dining hall like that? You caused quite a scene, you know—the _entire_ student body is talking, how _you_ , a brand new student, have been able to capture the heart of the _untouchable_ fencing instructor, who won’t even get together with anyone, even during mating season!”

I lower my ears in embarrassment. What is he talking about? Plus, what does the mating season have to do with anything? Aren't there mostly males here anyway? Why would anyone "get together" during the mating season anyway? I don't get it. Tokino is just being weird now.

“Tokino! It wasn’t like that at all!” I sigh, a little exasperated. “You know me. I’m awkward, I’m shy, and I’m not good at being around other cats. It was just a weird mistake.”

“A _mistake_? What do you mean? I want to hear _all_ about it! Especially now, since your ears and face are so red! Gods, Konoe, you're really cute when you blush!”

"Eh? Stop it!" I look up at Tokino. He needs to stop giving me such a hard time. He is still smiling his friendly smile, though, and he laughs.

We’ve entered the dining room by now and are standing in line at the buffet. I’m shuffling my feet slowly, looking at the delicious food in front of me, unable to stop myself from loading up my plate.

“I made a small mistake when I first encountered Rai-Sensei,” I say quietly. “I was in the bathhouse, and I thought I was alone, and he—“

“What?” Tokino’s ears are more than interested now, and his embarrassing words are flowing rapidly from his mouth. I can't get a single word in edgewise. “What did he _do_ to you? Did he _kiss_ you? In the pool? Oh, my gods!! While you were _naked_? Gods—while _he_ was naked? Because I’ve _seen_ him naked! None of us can figure out if he has a schedule—and we’ve _tried_ —we tried for _ages_ —both him _and_ Koujaku-Sensei,” he’s whispering now, adding a little sigh at this point. “They tend to bathe whenever they feel like it, rather than on a schedule. It’s such a pain if you want to peek in at them! You know, sometimes, it’s nice to just have a nice view when you’re taking a bath...” He finishes his sentence with a dreamy little sigh.

“Tokino!” I nearly spill the hot water for the tea that I’m trying to serve myself when I hear him talking. Is Rai really _that_ big of a deal? I mean, I guess _I_ think he is—but _if_ he is—why did he do that with _me_? Was he just messing with me? Was he _hazing_ me? It makes my heart ache a little bit. “That’s _not_ what happened. I was kind of taken with the water fountain and I was sort of," I lower my voice even more here out of shame, "playing in it—I just never knew the bathhouse was so fancy—and his presence startled me, and he said something snarky. I mistook him for a student, snapped at him, and embarrassed myself royally.”

“Eh?” Tokino drops the teabag into his mug and looks up at me. “Ehh?? You thought he was a _student_? You weren’t rude, were you? He doesn’t tolerate rudeness from students.”

“I was very rude.”

“Oh, my gods! So, then how did you end up at his table for dinner?”

“Well, I apologized and left—I was really embarrassed, but _he_ thought I was overheating from too much hot water exposure. And then I overslept for dinner and literally bumped into him outside in the hallway when I was trying to find the dining room. I didn’t want to be late on my first day. I was running and surprised him—and he threw me up against the wall like running into him was some kind of crime. But I just surprised him.”

Tokino’s round eyes get even rounder.

“But seriously, he must be good at sword fighting. He has great reflexes,” I say a little awkwardly. “After I apologized again for startling him and bumping into him—he said I could make it up to him by joining him for dinner.” 

“Whoa—so _he_ asked _you_?” Tokino says. We sit down across from each other at a rectangular table with a bench seats, at the very end.

“Yeah,” I dig into my heaping plate. It's really good, and I start with the pancakes.

“So, why did he drag you out of the room like that? I mean—the look on his face—I was a little scared for you. I thought he was going to eat you alive or something.”

“What?” I say, with food in my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, come _on_ , Konoe. _Everyone_ saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“Konoe, are you _blind_?”

“I was just feeling light-headed. I’d had too much to drink—too much ale at dinner or something, and I don’t have any experience with alcohol, so I was feeling a little warm. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Oh, come _on_ , Konoe. You’re trying to tell me that Rai-Sensei dragged you out of here last night because you needed some fresh air? Wait— _alcohol_? What alcohol?” Tokino's voice raises a little.

“The ale? At dinner? I was served ale in my glass. I know it wasn’t water. It was _ale_ , I am sure of it. I was going to ask, do they serve ale with dinner every night? It seems a little weird. I drank way too much.”

“We don't get ale, at least the students don't. So, maybe he was _trying_ to get you drunk on purpose, then?” Tokino takes another bite of his food. “You know, getting you drunk to take _advantage_. But there’s no _way_ you guys _just_ went out for fresh air. He looked... well, like I’ve never seen him look.” There's a short pause during which we are both eating.

“Well, I’m not going to deny that I would have minded so much if something _had_ happened...” I say, purposefully being vague, keeping my eye on my plate. I hear Tokino drop his silverware when I say these words, and I can almost feel his eyes and ears directed at my face.

“You know, Konoe,” Tokino says. “We’ve been friends for a _long_ time. And I’m sitting right next to you. So I’m just going to be direct and ask—why do you _smell_ different today?”

A small gulping noise comes out. I look up desperately at my friend. “Smell—different? I mean, I did bathe in the bathhouse yesterday...?”

“That's definitely _not_ it. I could smell _Rai-Sensei’s_ scent on you when you first bumped into me upstairs _and_ when you were walking down the hall. I can smell his scent on you even _right now_ , while I am sitting across the table from you. And I’m _sure_ that isn’t from him just 'helping you back to your room' yesterday. Those are definitely your _own_ clothes you’re wearing, so I don't want to hear some lame-ass excuse that you're borrowing something of his. So... isn’t there _something_ you _aren’t_ telling me?” Tokino’s eyes are sparkling joyfully like he’s discovered some great secret. He starts to lean across the table. “Ah—plus, your ears are so red right now!”

“... Well, maybe he did... groom me a little.” My voice is very quiet, and I lower my face, my ears drooping.

“Oh? And did you perhaps share any _other_ first experiences? Like perhaps...” Tokino keeps stretching his body across the table, his face is now almost close enough to touch my nose with his. 

But before he can finish his question, a fist suddenly slams down on the edge of the table right next to us, making all the dishes jump up off the trays. Frankly, it scares the shit out of both of us—since Tokino was trying to look in my eyes, and I was desperately trying to _avoid_  his gaze by staring at my food. The sound bristles our tails and ruffles the fur on our ears, and we both turn out heads toward the fist—which is shockingly pale.

My stomach drops when I notice it’s connected to a rather large, well-shaped arm, dressed in blue and black form-fitting leather, and that there are silver strands of hair, agitatedly floating around the table, settling around the arm.

I don’t have to look to know that the fist belongs to Rai, but I can’t help staring at his face. Rai, however, is scowling at Tokino.

“Rai-Sensei,” Tokino says, in a shocked voice, keeping his mouth hanging open.

“Tokino,” Rai’s voice is even and calm, despite the banging of his fist he used to capture our attention. “You wouldn't be hazing our newest student, are you?”

“Oh, no, of course not. He’s a good friend of m—“

“Because from where I stand, your face looks much too close. In fact, it’s _too_ close to someone who is trying to enjoy his breakfast. Tokino-Kun, you are aware that Konoe is from Karou, are you not?”

“Of course, Sensei,” Tokino replies, moving his head away from mine.

“Then you’re aware that Karou still has a food shortage. While Konoe is with us, it’s our top priority to get him into the best shape we can, which includes letting him eat as much as he likes. Please don’t interrupt his mealtime with your senseless flirting.”

“But Sensei, I wasn’t—“ 

“ _Tokino_!” Rai barks.

“Yes, sir!” Tokino lowers his ears.

“Listen to me when I am talking to you. I know class isn’t in session, and you tend to like flapping your gums. It’s handy for peddlers to gossip, I realize. But when I’m speaking to you, I expect to have your full attention.”

“Yes, sir.” Tokino looks miserably chastised.

“You’re welcome to enjoy your conversation, just let the poor kitten finish his food in peace.” Then, Rai turns to me. “Are you feeling better this morning, Konoe-Kun? Did you have a restful night your first night here? Were you warm enough?”

Warm enough?? What the _fuck_? “Oh—y-yes, sir, Rai-Sensei. Thank you, I’m feeling much better,” I answer. I can feel heat rising in my ears.

“I’m glad to hear it. I see you’ve got a little something on your collar there,” Rai reaches out and brushes his fingertip against my collarbone— _exactly_ over the spot that is covering his love bite, beneath the fabric of my shirt. 

Absolutely stunned, a strange strangled sound comes out of my mouth, and I look up at Rai’s face once more, unable to resist. I _have_ to see his expression. What is he _doing_? What is he trying to say? There is a somewhat smug expression on his face. Is he wondering if I bothered to change my underwear this morning? Is _that_ what he’s asking? Is he wondering if I found the mark? Making sure I know he left it there?

I am willing to bet everything I have that there wasn’t _anything_ on my shirt at all. I think I feel _rage_ boiling up in the pit of my stomach. Is that what this feeling is? Maybe he is hazing me?

In the same strangled tone, I say, “Thank you, Sensei,” and I look back down at my plate. I feel a tender touch against my ears—his fingertips brushing them gently. They feel cool, probably because my ears are so damned hot. That touch surprises me, and it strangely calms the rage boiling in my stomach. It's such a strange sensation. How does he manage to manipulate me like this? I don't understand my reaction to this cat _at all_.

“I’ll see both of you in class later today.” Looking at Tokino, he says. “Behave yourself.” He strides away.

“Whoa,” marvels Tokino. “My knees are still shaking from that interaction! That was _really_ intense! I think he came over because I was too close to you, Konoe! That was crazy! Is he super possessive or something? Are you guys a _couple_? Konoe! That’s _great_! But what I don’t understand is the thing with your shirt. There wasn't anything on there. What was _that_ about?”

I am still looking down at my plate, which is mostly finished. “Nothing, really. I have no idea. He’s just weird, I think.” I mumble quietly, hoping he will just drop it. Gods, what if Tokino is in my PE class? How will I ever explain that mark? “Anyway, can you show me to the registrar after this? I need to pick up my class schedule.”

“Yeah, I’ll be happy to!” Tokino smiles happily. “And since it looks like you’ve attracted plenty of interest already, I’ll introduce you around. In fact—“ He reaches up and grabs the blazer of a cat with unusually colored hair—it’s bright blue and long—as he’s passing our table, “this is my good friend Aoba. I think you guys are gonna have a _lot_ to talk about! Aoba, this is my friend Konoe, a new student from Karou.”

“Hi,” Aoba turns to face me, and he has a sweet face, blue fur, and striking hazel eyes. He has a friendly smile, and he has an unusual voice—it’s one of the first things I notice about him, after that hair. “It’s nice to meet you.” His voice kind of makes my ears tingle. I want him to talk more. “I saw you in the dining room last night—sitting at a table with my favorite teacher.”

My ears droop slightly. Oh, no—not a rival, I hope? I try to explain. “I was running late on my first day here—I’d been at the school for less than four hours, and I _literally_ bumped into Rai-Sensei in the hallway—“ 

“Oh, no,” Aoba says. “I meant _Koujaku_. He’s a childhood friend of mine. It’s hard to think of him as a teacher here, in fact.” Aoba shifts how he stands slightly. It doesn’t look like he thinks of Koujaku as a childhood friend from the way he is shifting his feet, at least not to me.

“Are you from the same village as Koujaku-Sensei?” It stuns me. 

“Yes, and Rai as well, though I didn’t know him very well. From Setsura.”

I take another look at Aoba, and he is close to me in height. In fact, when I get up to clear my breakfast tray, I just can't believe it. There’s just no _way_ Aoba is a Setsuran cat. But he looks so honest, so maybe I'm missing something. My thoughts must be obvious to him since Aoba smiles at me.

“Oh—you’re wondering about my size? Setsura is indeed known for large breeds. Bardo-San is from there, too. But I was adopted. I never met my biological parents. I was always the smallest cat around, and Koujaku took me under his wing when I was young.” Aoba smiles. “Those two are about average. There are even bigger cats than them if you can believe it.”

“Bigger?” I ask. “I probably look like a baby!”

“I doubt it, but you probably do look pretty cute and compact, which is most likely why Rai-Sensei... well—oh. Never mind. That’s none of my business. But—maybe, later, if you have time, you could talk to me? About _that_?”

About what exactly? I start feeling a little nervous.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying not to sound as nervous as I feel.

“I mean, I just need some advice,” Aoba says.

I’m following Tokino out of the dining hall now, down to the registrar apparently, and Aoba is tagging along.

“I—I don’t think I’ll be much help,” I state flatly, but Aoba grabs my arm almost desperately.

“Wait,” he says. “I don’t think you understand. This is _very_ important to me, and I need to be sure I get my feelings across. You just arrived, and you were able to approach an instructor who is _unapproachable_! I’m sure you’re the _only_  person I can ask! Please!”

“I’ll do my best,” I sigh.

“Let’s meet up after class then,” Aoba suggests. “My room is probably best, and private, too. Room number 3. But you can meet me outside the dining room after lunch unless you have afternoon classes.”

With those words, I pick up my schedule and my two friends help me figure out where I need to be for my first class—literature—with Razel-Sensei.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe's first class in literature hasn't gone very well, as might be expected. Razel asks him to stay after class for some extra tutoring sessions, which also don't go quite as smoothly as Konoe expects.

“Please see me after class, Konoe-Kun,” Razel taps me on the shoulder just before the bell rings, indicating the end of the class.

I lower my head into my arms, resting it there, completely discouraged, as the literature instructor waits patiently by my desk, watching as the other students gather their belongings and clear out of the classroom.

Tokino walks by my desk and gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze. He whispers, “Good luck, Konoe— do your best, OK?” But even his usual enthusiastic attitude tone doesn't hide the fear in his voice. He certainly wouldn't want to be in my place either, kept behind after class with this terrifying instructor after my embarrassing first performance.

My stomach hurts. This was only my _first_ class at this school. Are they _all_ going to go like this one? If so, I should just give up now. I’ve _completely_ humiliated myself. I knew I wasn’t very good at reading, to begin with, and I really _did_ do my best. Razel-Sensei called on me first to read aloud in class, and I made a complete fool of myself; I was stuttering and stammering—I was a nervous wreck. He was _very_ displeased.

I was nervous about reading in front of the class, but in addition to my anxiety, many words were unfamiliar, so I had to sound them out. That takes time. Clearly, I just need more practice! Apparently, my best isn't nearly good enough to satisfy this demon of an instructor. I mean, he is _literally_ a devil. 

Razel leisurely walks to the front of the classroom and leans against his desk, examining me thoughtfully, as soon as the rest of the students have cleared out of the class.

“You have a break in your schedule next, don’t you, Konoe-Kun?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” I say miserably. I’m really ashamed of my performance in class. “I’m sorry, Razel-Sensei. I did try my best, and I _want_ to learn to read as well as the rest of your students. I think I just need more practice.”

“I am aware of that,” Razel says, keeping his eyes on me. I feel him looking at me, but I don’t dare raise my eyes. I keep them lowered on the hands on my lap. This instructor scares me. There’s something ferocious seething beneath his calm exterior. “It's clear to me you need extra help. I considered assigning a student to tutor you, but you’re _so_ far behind I’m afraid only _I_ will be able to provide the incentive you need to catch up. Two sessions extra per week should suffice.”

What? _He_ is going to tutor me _himself_? The thought alone is terrifying. I don’t even like being alone in the same room with him. He _really_ frightens me. I want to get out of here, and I glance up at the door. If I didn’t have to show up at his class on Wednesday, I’d bolt right now. I try to come up with an excuse to get out of this extra session.

“Um, aren’t you terribly busy, though? I’m sure I could—”

“Children should lower their ears and obey,” Razel states. “Be quiet when I’m speaking. I'm offering to help you, Konoe-Kun. You should be grateful.”

Instantly, I shut my mouth. I really do _not_ want him as my private tutor. I won’t be able to handle being alone with him like this, and my body breaks out in a nervous sweat.

“Let me see your class schedule. Bring it to me.” He remains standing at his desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Without delay, I rifle around in my bag and pull out the paper listing my classes. Then I get up from my desk and bring it up to the front of the class, my ears submissively lowered and my tail drooping gloomily between my legs.

“Let’s see,” Razel sounds thoughtful. Peering through reading glasses, he compares my schedule with his, which is listed in a small black book. “It looks like the best days for me will be today after class and Wednesdays, also after class. We will meet for an hour each time. It will use up your break, but you simply must get caught up. Having you decoding words instead of reading smoothly is _unacceptable_. You will fall behind in your other classes before long since you won’t be able to keep up with the coursework. This is an urgent matter, Konoe-Kun, and I expect you to do your best.”

"Wouldn't it be possible for me to spend that time reading on my own? I hate to be a bother to you. You seem like such a busy person, and I'd hate to take up your valuable time with my problems. I could return to my own room at use the time to read on my own," I suggest helpfully (and rather recklessly).

"Konoe-Kun, I don't like to repeat myself. I am offering to tutor you myself because I think this is a service only I can provide. Why don't you show a little gratitude? I don't understand your reluctance here. Is there something wrong with me tutoring you myself? I don't frighten you, do I?" Razel takes my chin in his hands while he is talking, forcing me to meet his gaze. I feel like a small child while he does this. It's belittling and intimidating, and it increases my fear exponentially.

“Yes, sir—I mean, no, sir—I mean, I apologize. I-I understand,” finding myself stammering again, I sigh dejectedly. I’ve _never_ felt more humiliated in my entire life. But really, I never had a choice. I have always lived alone, and there was no one to teach me after Mom died. After that, I kept busy trying to survive that I didn’t have a chance to practice what she taught me. Razel even heard this at dinner last night. Thinking about it, as he heard my story last night, did he single me out deliberately today in class? I feel like I was set up to fail, to be humiliated in front of the other students. Why would he do that?

“We will start extra lessons today,” Razel states authoritatively. “The sooner you catch up, the better off you’ll be in your other classes as well. You should be aware I’m much stricter on my tutored students than I am in my classroom, so be sure to be on your best behavior. Students learn best when they suffer physical consequences upon failure. They tend to be much more motivated that way, I find.”

“Yes, sir.” _Wait a minute._ Did he say _physical_ consequences? What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?

“One hour should be plenty of time to practice your skills, as well as increase your motivation, which I think is your main problem. Konoe, you already have the correct skill set; you merely lack the proper motivation to put it to use. I’ll start the timer now.”

He reaches into his desk and pulls out an hourglass and a ruler. He sets both on his desk, turning the hourglass upside down. The sand begins to trickle into the empty bottom bulb. “Please retrieve tomorrow’s assigned reading and bring it to my desk. For your own comfort, leave your blazer at your desk. You won’t need it.”

I obey, keeping my ears lowered. With a certain degree of self-consciousness as well as heightened anxiety, I remove my blazer and hang it over the back of my chair. I feel a dark sense of foreboding, but what choice do I have now? I can’t just leave, can I? I feel like I might be in actual danger. What kind of “physical consequences” is he referring to?

“Stand here at my desk, please, and hold the book open with both hands so I can read along with you and assist if necessary.”

I place the book on his desk as requested, having to bend over his desk to hold the book open. This position my body is in—it’s humiliating, and I feel more than a little vulnerable. My anxiety starts to rise even further, and I realize my body is quivering. I notice the ruler is no longer on his desk. Is he holding it? Is he going to measure something? Did he just put it away? Perhaps he's going to use it as a pointer? That's probably it. I try to take a deep breath, but it comes out shaky and uneven.

“Open it to the assigned reading.”

I open the book as he requests with trembling fingers. I'm really nervous now, and my mouth is very dry. He is standing awfully close to me. My heart is pounding loudly, and I can feel my pulse in my throat, and it's so loud it's almost ringing in my ears. I think I should sit down. I start to feel a little light-headed like I might faint.

“I-I th-think I would feel more comfortable reading at m-my desk,” I stammer. “Please, Sensei. I feel light-headed and dizzy like I might pass out.”

Razel ignores me. “Begin your assignment, reading out loud, please. You will practice until the hour is up.” His voice remains very calm.

“ _Please_ , Sensei,” my voice trembles, too, as I look up at Razel from where I’m standing. “Would you mind terribly if I sat down at my seat instead?”

Razel touches my chin gently, and I flinch away from his hand. “In fact, I _would_ mind, Konoe. Didn’t you hear me when I said children should lower their ears and obey? You need to remain at my desk to be under my _direct_ and total supervision. No more delays, please. _Begin_ the assignment.”

I take another shaky breath and start reading slowly, puzzling out the words as I go, but still trying to make my voice flow as smoothly as possible. The novel is _The Incredible Journey_ , written by Sheila Burnford. The first page is a poem called, “The Beasts,” written by Walt Whitman. The first two lines go like this:  

 

> I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d,
> 
> I stand and look at them long and long.

However, I stumble over the word “placid.” I don’t recognize the word, and as soon as I stumble, Razel uses the ruler, which he's been holding in his hand, to slap me on the ass.

The smack comes as quite a shock, and even over my trousers, it hurts like a son of a bitch. At first, my brain doesn’t process what’s happened in the least—I hear a loud slapping sound, which makes my ears flick back toward the origin of the noise, and then suddenly, my ass stings. I yelp and my body jerks, my tail fluffs out fully in surprise and pain, and I _completely_ lose my concentration. Only _then_ do I fully realize what’s happened.

I am instantly flustered and embarrassed—especially since I'm leaning over his desk like this. Is _this_ what he meant by physical consequences? Is he going to do this—actually _spank_ me—each and every time I miss a word? What the _hell_? How is _that_ going to help me learn anything? All that is going to do is humiliate me even more than I already am! Plus, my feelings are hurt—I feel wounded, treated like a child! He just _spanked_ me with a ruler, for gods’ sake! What if someone comes in, or hears me yelling from the hallway? I’m nearly an adult, and I can’t keep my voice down from the pain!

“Wh-what—what was _that_ for?” I ask. I’m furious, rubbing my ass, and I’m glaring up at Razel, who returns my angry look with a cool and collected gaze, as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

Razel takes hold of my chin once more and says, “I’m teaching you to read. This is my tried and true method, Konoe-Kun. You see, each time you stumble on a word, if you receive a painful stimulation, you will eventually be motivated to _stop_ stumbling. Do you understand?”

“What? You're crazy! That won’t help me learn! I just don’t know what that word is, because I’ve never _seen_ it before!” I’m actually _really_ upset now, and I’m raising my voice. He has _no right_ to lay hands on me! Plus, I’m _terribly_ flustered. I don’t like other people touching me—especially not like this. This is just too degrading and strangely intimate.

“Perhaps you need things to be a little _more_ painful then? Because that can be arranged. I was going _easy_ on you since this is our first session together. I can make things more painful if that is what is needed.” His calm voice really grates on my nerves, and now he’s _threatening_ me? What the fuck? I need to get out of here!

“I’m _not_ doing this!” I yell, grabbing the book. “This is _ridiculous_! Fuck this!” As I start walking back to my seat, he grabs me by the collar. He is _much_ stronger and faster than I expect. He pulls my face up to his, close enough to touch his nose to mine, but he still doesn't raise his voice.

“Don't you _dare_ speak to me in that vulgar tone, little one! But _yes_ , you most _certainly_ are doing this. Haven’t you read the rulebook yet? Instructors have _absolute_ authority over the students at this school. You are _my_ responsibility, and you need to learn to _read_. _Start again_. You still have most of the hour left. Go on.” 

He physically returns me to the desk—easily and violently slamming my body against it—my hips are going to be bruised, I'm sure of it—this time bending me over it completely pressing my upper body flat against the top. He opens the book to the poem I was just reading and places it in front of my face, grabbing me by the hair, his other hand pressing down firmly on my lower back, holding my body in place.

The hand pulling my hair is painful, and this violence is making me want to defy him even _more_! Rage seethes in the pit of my belly as I stare at the page in front of me. I press my lips together tightly in defiance. I am _not_ going to do this. I will _not_ read. I will _not_ do this. My ears flatten against my head in defiance, and my tail fluffs up boldly. My claws are drawn as well, holding the table firmly.

The ruler comes back down over my ass—harder still—hard enough to squeeze a few tears from my eyes, in fact—and a small desperate sound leaks from the corners of my mouth.

“Continue with the assignment,” Razel speaks calmly.

Smack, smack! Twice more, these blows aimed at the sensitive spot where my ass and legs meet, and stinging enough to make me press my own body into the table to try to escape the pain. Tears slip down my cheeks, and a few pained groans escape my mouth, and I bite the inside of my lip, tasting blood.

Lower still, the calm voice repeats, “Continue the assignment.”

Smack, smack, smack, smack! A volley of four blows—aimed at the back of my thighs this time—takes my breath away—I've never been hit there before, and it stings! I squeeze my legs together, which raises my ass up even higher, and I hear a true sob escape from my mouth.

Gods, maybe I should just do it and read. I can’t keep this up. This is way too painful. Why am I resisting so much? Maybe I can't win? Maybe I should just read the damned thing and get it over with? I switch tactics midway and open my mouth, begging and pleading. I withdraw my claws and hide my fangs as best as I can, but I'm in pain, so they won't go away so easily. My tail droops submissively between my legs.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” I whisper, my ears lower to a submissive position, and then I continue reading the passage. “… ‘They do not sweat and whine about their con-con-’” 

Smack! Again, the ruler comes down—just as hard as the last punishing blow, making me cry out loud, and my ears twitch. Razel waits for me to get myself under control, making sure I can hear him, before he says gently, “It’s ‘condition.’”

“... ‘condition, they do not lie away in the dark and weep for their sins, they do not make me sick dis-dis-discussing—’”

Smack! I yell again, and I don’t understand why he hit me when the word was  _correct_ this time. It _devastates_ me, actually, bringing tears to my eyes, not just from the pain of the blow, but also from the fact that he spanked me unjustly!

“Why?” I ask, looking back at Razel dejectedly. “I actually _knew_ that word!” Tears of frustration threatening to fall affect the sound of my voice, making it sound distraught and thick. “Why are you punishing me if I managed it on my own?”

“You weren’t reading smoothly enough for my preference. I want to train you to read smoothly and quickly, and not decode like you are currently doing. That is our objective here,” Razel says, his voice still calm and almost tender. “Please continue.”

“… 'discussing their duty to God. Not one is dis—’”

Smack! He doesn’t even give me a chance to figure out the word, and I cry out again. “It’s ‘dissatisfied,’ little one,” he says, still in a calm, quiet voice. His hand brushes over my ass, smoothing all around it over my clothes, which makes me shudder—almost like he’s trying to distribute the pain to the rest of my body. It’s an almost affectionate gesture, and I _hate_ it.

“... ‘dissatisfied, not one is demented with the m-mania of owning things, not one k-k-k—’” 

Smack! I scream this time, and both my hands fly up to rub my butt, but he grabs them and forces them back down to the desk.

“ _Please_ —I can’t—”

“You _can_ , and you _will_. This is your job as a student. You will keep your hands where they belong, on the desk, please. The word is ‘kneels,’ as the ‘k’ is silent before an 'n.' Continue.”

Miserably, I continue, trying to keep my hands on the desk by the book. “... ‘Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, not one is re—’”

Smack! Another yelp is pulled from my mouth, and fresh tears finally spill from my eyes and down my cheeks. This is hopeless. I don’t even protest. What’s happening here? “It’s ‘respectable.’” I don’t have a choice except to keep reading. 

“... ‘Not one is respectable or—’”

Smack! “‘Industrious.’” I’m sobbing now, making it difficult to understand the words I am reading. What’s the point of this?

“… 'industrious over the whole earth. Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, ‘Songs of Myself,’ 32.’” 

I break down, sobbing loudly, with unrestrained weeping. This is too much—absolutely humiliating—too painful—I can't make myself submit to this degrading behavior. I don’t think I can do anymore. I look at the hourglass, and it’s not even one-quarter full. Oh, my gods! 

“Turn the page, little one,” Razel says. “You haven’t finished the assignment yet. You are to read through the first chapter.”

“ _Please_ , can’t I at least catch my breath first? _Please_.” I'm crying so much it's hard to understand my words at this point.

“Turn the page,” Razel says, terribly kindly, but I still can't seem to obey.

Suddenly, my upper torso is once again violently shoved against the table, knocking the wind from my lungs, right in the middle of a sob—and I hear the sounds my belt buckle clinking. Terror shoots through my entire being at that sound, my ears perking up in horror and fear. I feel as my trousers are forcefully unbuttoned, unzipped, and then unceremoniously yanked down to my knees, while I’m pressed against the table. Razel has stripped me bare—my underwear as well—leaving my lower half exposed and nicely presented.

“When I ask you to do something, I expect you to obey _immediately_. I asked, not once, but _twice_ , and you disobeyed. What do you suppose the consequences of disobedience are in my classroom, little one?”

I expect him to be angry, but his voice hasn’t changed at all. Not even a little bit. He is still speaking in a calm, collected voice. It’s frightening—so frightening I’m afraid to look at him. I keep staring at the book in front of me, my breath ragged with fear, and I’m frozen in place. However, I gulp loudly when I feel a warm hand on my chin, tilting my face back, straining my neck at an unnatural angle, forcing me to meet his bright blue eyes once more.

He wants me to see him ogling me—my face _and_ my body—I watch as his eyes travel first over my face and then crawl down my back and over my exposed buttocks and bare legs. I flush in embarrassment. I feel my ears burning in shame, and I can't bare any more humiliation, fresh tears burning my eyes. I really don’t want to be exposed in front of him, and my ears can’t lower any further, my tail is drooping listlessly. Why is he doing this? Is this really supposed to help teach me to read?

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. “I’m sorry. _Please_! I only was trying to—“ But he doesn’t let me finish.

“It’s a little too late for apologies now.”

Is this all because I can’t read?

“ _Please_ ,” I beg, and I feel fear rising when I sense his body coming closer to me. “ _Please_ —I can’t— _Please_.” My knees are shaking, and my tail is quivering in fear. I expect to feel that ruler coming down against my bare skin at any time now, and I know it's going to hurt so much more. My breath is coming in gasping breaths from my mouth, almost panting or wheezing. I squeeze my eyes shut in preparation. “ _Please_. Have mercy on me.”

Instead of the ruler, I feel a hand—it’s not at _all_ what I expect—very, very hot, dry, and large, cupping my ass gently. His other hand has slipped up under my shirt and is pressing down hard against my lower back, holding me against the table so I can't move. Razel steps up close behind me—close enough so I can feel his trousers brushing the bare skin of my thighs. I hear him whisper down into my ears.

“Your skin is so smooth and soft,” and to my utter horror, some of the calm has disappeared from his voice now, replaced not with _anger_ , but something that sounds like _desire_ or _passion_. Oh, my gods. Is he turned on right now? Panic creeps up into my chest as I feel him pressing me into the desk. Is he going to... gods, am I going to be _raped_? Right here in the classroom? My wheezing breaths quicken to short pants.

“During class today, all I could see was this innocent face, staring up at me. Your eyes—they are  _asking_ for this—simply _begging_ for this—begging to be _broken_ , to be _taken_ , to be _ruined_ —and _violently_. So tell me, is that what _Rai_ did to you last night? I know he wanted to. I recognized the look in his eye when he dragged you out of the dining room last night, and I can _smell_ him on you, even now, you know. Did he perhaps drag you out into the forest and take you on the grass? Did you struggle? Did you put up a fight?”

His hands rub over my ass, which is still burning from the punishment from the ruler, but his hands are weirdly hot. I feel them slipping in between my cheeks, which gives me the chills, slipping down around my hips, and to the front of my thighs, threatening to touch my cock. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want this! I don't _want_ this! 

“Let me tell you, Konoe, I think I would be _better_ for you than him. I could teach you things you don’t know about yourself... _interesting_ things about yourself... pleasurable things... teaching you about the pleasure to be found in pain, for example...”

He continues running his hands over my bare skin, making me shudder. I want to run, and I want to get away from him, but I can’t move my body. I'm frozen in fear, and I am afraid of what he is going to do to me. Why can't I move?

“This is _definitely_ virgin territory, isn’t it? The way you’re acting—I can tell—he didn’t take you, though you want it. You’re _begging_ for it. Ah, so tempting! You deserve to be punished just for tempting me in class today!”

What is he taking about? I’m so scared I can’t say a thing. I’m terrified. Then, he spanks me with his hand—slapping me hard enough that my hips bump up hard against the desk. He hits me right where my legs and ass meet, and I suddenly burst into tears—I’ve had _enough_ of this _._  He is truly scaring me, and I don't understand what is going on. Through my tears, I start to beg.

“ _Please_ , stop this! I’m not asking for anything! I haven't asked for _anything_! I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and you’re _hurting_ me! _Please_! _Please_ , stop this! Please don't touch me!”

But he doesn’t stop, and instead, brings his hand down again, smacking me loud enough to make my ears twitch. At this point, I am crying hard enough that I don’t hear it when the door opens. But I do suddenly hear a _second_ voice, low and familiar—seething with rage.

“What the hell are you doing?! Get the fuck away from him, bastard! This one is _mine_!”

I see a flash of silver out of the corner of my eye when suddenly, Razel releases his hold on my body.

There’s a tussle behind me, hissing and growling, scratching and clawing, and I realize there’s an actual _fight_  within three feet of my body. It's a mess of silver hair and fur mixed with black and flame red hair. The door to the classroom is crowded with students from the hallway, peeking in and getting a load of what is going on. I don’t even know what that is, but it looks like Rai barged in and is scratching and biting Razel.

I’m unable to move, however—my legs are frozen in place—and the students in the hallway are getting a load of my mostly naked lower half, which is still frozen in place, unable to move. 

The fight behind me lasts less than two minutes, and I hear Rai mutter, “I _know_ you smelled my scent on him, you bastard. That’s why you singled him out. This one is _mine_. I told you at dinner last night. If you want to teach him, go ahead, but don’t you fucking _touch_ him. Stupid son of a bitch.” He roughly pushes the devil back down to the floor and stalks over to the desk. 

When he approaches me, he roughly pulls up my trousers, without bothering to zip them up. My ears lower completely when I notice his fur bristled, his claws drawn, and his fangs bared. Rai looks truly frightening, and he looks angry at me, too. 

“You stupid cat! Why didn’t you get out of here? I told you yesterday—this expression of yours would be your downfall.” Rai’s voice is _full_ of exasperation.

He picks me up by the waist, throws me over his shoulder, and walks out of the room. My ears and face are still burning, and my butt still hurts pretty bad, too. And my face is still wet with tears.

He makes his way through the crowd of on-lookers, ignoring the other students as though they weren’t even here.

I'm so glad to see him, however. But part of my brain wonders if I didn't just fly from the frying pan into the fire, especially with the look I saw in Rai's eye. He really looked upset.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: first time blow-jobs

Rai has flung open a door and violently slammed it behind him, throwing my body roughly onto a sofa, as soon as he enters. I have no idea where I am, or where he has taken me. I’m completely disoriented, and my trousers are still undone and disheveled from Razel’s assault just a few minutes earlier. 

I’m in a state of shock, and I have to confess, looking at the growling, fluffed up giant silver cat frightens me nearly as much as being alone with Razel—only now,I feel a strange tension in the air that I didn’t feel with Razel. Well, there _may_ have been a similar tension in the air earlier, but I wasn’t about to acknowledge it. I was not attracted to the demon in the same way I’m attracted to this cat—and I am most _certainly_ attracted to this cat, even if his intent is to embarrass me. That thought brings fresh tears to my eyes.

However, in this state—he is absolutely frightening. I’m truly afraid of him like this—is he going to hit me, too?

“Care to explain yourself?”

Explain myself? Is he blaming me? I can only look up at the fluffy silver fur-covered giant with lowered ears. I’m unable to do anything in my own defense—verbally or physically—but really, what does he expect me to say? This _wasn’t_ my fault—none of it! I didn’t bring Razel’s punishment on myself! For now, I simply stare up at Rai under my lashes, which sparkle with unshed tears, eyes wide, tail fluffed out in fear. I’m dying to fix my clothes, but I don’t want to bring further attention to the fact that they are disheveled and are probably exposing more of my body than they should.

“Got something in your ears?” He barks at me, making me flinch, and I blink but maintain my gaze. My ears flatten against my head fearfully, switching from their shamefully lowered position. They are hot, and I’m sure they are blushing pink, too. I notice his eye glances up at something slightly above and behind my head.

The tears on my eyelashes sparkle a little in the light, but I’m no longer actively crying. I’ll be damned if I let him see me wipe them from my eyes. I won’t give him this power. I’m really thirsty from my earlier crying, but I keep quiet. I still don’t say anything. What _could_ I say at this point? I _hate_ that I’m here right now—why did he bring me here? What are his plans? And why is he keeping up this act?

“He’s the devil of wrath! Of course he’s going to run his class like that. It was foolish to be alone with him!” Rai’s voice is still raised, irritated, like I should have known better, and am something other than a student here on my first day.

I continue maintaining my gaze, but I say nothing. My ears perk up in response to his loud voice. Where are we, anyway? My eyes are wide, but I don’t dare take my eyes off him for fear of what he might do. I remember how fast he is—his tall body can move quickly and startle me quite easily. In my periphery, this appears to be a large bedroom with more furnishings than my room, plus a fireplace, a sitting area, a small kitchenette, and a private bathroom. Is this his room? What the hell? Why did he bring me here? Exactly how far does he intend to take this hazing thing? The ache in my chest hurts even more at the thought—because I really do find myself attracted to him—the thought of simply being used by him for fun, at his pleasure, is too painful to bear. 

“Are you going to tell me you didn’t notice the attention he showered on you at dinner last night?” His voice is incredulous and annoyed, and I notice he glances up over my head again. I almost want to turn around to see what is distracting him. It’s making his pupil dilate, whatever it is, and that makes me nervous.

Silence. I don't even blink. If I blink, the tears on my lashes might slip down my cheeks and be seen. I don’t want to give him any more power than he already holds over me. I feel my ears twitching slightly, once more scanning the area for voices outside, wondering if anyone would hear me if I called for help—or is _everyone_ in on this? Would I call, though? _Really_? Part of me really desires him—I don’t care what happens to me. I _want_ this silver cat, even if he is just doing this on a lark. That slim string around my heart tightens even more, making it hard to breathe. 

Rai blows a frustrated sigh, and his volume lowers slightly, confusing me mightily. “I’m sure he could smell my scent on you, too. He probably singled you out deliberately—maybe even because I’d marked you so thoroughly. I should have known.” He sounds upset—like he made a mistake. He isn’t contrite, is he? What is going on? 

I simply stare back at him, wide-eyed, still quiet, my ears quivering slightly. His eye flashes up over my head again. My tail, which has been quivering between my legs on the couch, finally wriggles free and arcs widely in frustration. 

“Damn it!” The loud expletive startles me, making me jump.

Before I realize what is happening, the silver cat moves his body close to mine. I’ve been expecting him to move, but not like this. He straddles me, kneeling on top of my lap, pinning me against the back of the couch and leaning over me, wrapping an arm around my neck, making it impossible for me to move.

“Why do you keep twitching your ears? I can’t stand it!” His voice is breathless and hoarse.

My ears? He’s been looking at my ears this whole time? Not something behind me? What the fuck— 

I feel a sudden rough, damp touch and a sharp twinge of pain—his tongue assaults my ear, his teeth grazing the tip—just before he sucks it into his mouth entirely. A small frightened cry falls from my lips—I try to push him away using both hands against his chest. Useless, of course. I’m surprised by his attack—by its simultaneous roughness and its intimacy—plus I’m still in shock from Razel’s harsh treatment of me earlier.

However, after his tongue enters my ear fully, and he’s grabbed both of my hands in one of his, pulling them roughly over my head and behind my back, I realize how futile it is to try to fight him off. Escape is impossible. As much as the touch sends shivers down my neck and shoulders, I try to stop resisting him in any way. In fact, if anything, I try to submit, trying to make my body relax, albeit unsuccessfully, my body shaking and shuddering in his arms.

He isn’t hurting me—but the sensations are terribly stimulating. Doesn’t he realize? Is this what he means to do? Part of the hazing? To bring me to my knees like I was yesterday?

I breathe raggedly, trying to respond, speaking into his chest, “I wasn’t—ah—doing anything—just—ah—trying to—ah—listen to you—ah!—What are you—ah—doing?—Ah!—Why are you—ah—doing this—ah!”

“You’re shivering,” his low voice rumbles, and his tongue licks the downy fur deep inside my ear, squishing loudly and obscenely. 

“Stop it! Please!” I beg. “What do you even want with me? Why won’t you leave me alone?!” My anger starts to boil over. 

“Why were you _alone_ with that demon? Don’t you know what he was about to _do_ to you? He doesn’t _care_ about your lack of experience! He doesn’t care that you haven’t even experienced your first heat! He could have... taken advantage of you right there in his office! Stupid cat! You were half _naked_! If I hadn’t walked in when I did, who _knows_ what would have happened to you!” Rai’s voice is full of anger and rage and what oddly sounds like jealousy—though I must be mistaken. This is all about hazing me, teasing me, making me feel small... isn’t it?

“What does experience have to do with it? He asked me to stay after class!” I protest. “What was I _supposed_ to do? I couldn’t very well just run away if I have another scheduled class with him on Wednesday!” I add obstinately. Isn’t Razel in on the hazing thing, too? It sure seems like it.

“Let me guess.” I’m pushed down flat against the couch, my arms pulled overhead, Rai sitting heavily on top of my hips. His face hovers less than a foot from mine, silver hair brushing against me softly and distractingly, and his eye is glaring at me. One hand traps my wrists overhead, the other has frighteningly discovered the still-open waistband of my pants, about to slip under my shirt. “He volunteered to keep you after class for special ‘tutoring’ lessons?”

“Ah!” I exclaim, as a hand sneaks up under the fabric of my shirt, caressing my belly, making me press my back against the couch, while it continues making its way to my chest. “Stop! Please!”

“He said he’d _normally_ set up sessions with another student, but you require some ‘special attention’ only _he_ can provide? How am I doing so far?”

That hand is now pressed flat, smoothing against my chest, and I hear his tail thumping loudly, almost impatiently, against the couch behind him. I’m really afraid, but this touch feels so good. It’s not doing anything to help me calm my body down. That’s what makes all this so much worse! _Why_ is he doing this?

“It’s _exactly_ what he said, but I don’t understand how _any_ of this is my fault!” I yell right back, watching his eye go round in surprise at my anger. “I’m a student! I’m here to learn and learnreading, in his class. He singled me out, shamed me in front of my classmates. But I have to show my face there again Wednesday. Of _course_ , I wanted to run—he scares the shit out of me! What else could I do? Do you think I _wanted_  to bend over his desk and be humiliated like that!?” There’s a short pause, and I watch the silver cat’s handsome face soften once more. 

“What part of ‘you are mine,’ do you find difficult to understand?” His voice has dropped in both pitch and volume, as my shirt is pushed up, revealing my skin to the cool open air and his mouth. Goosebumps shiver across my skin as I feel his long silver hair sweeping across. Not like this—don’t _tease_ me like this! It’s _torture_!

“Or perhaps, you _do_ understand, it’s that you don’t wish to accept it?” I feel his tongue against my stomach—dipping into my navel, making me suck in my abdomen, and then he trails his tongue up to my nipples. I cry out when he bites them lightly, wishing I could cover my mouth with my hands to stifle my cries.

“Simply put, I don’t want you to let others touch you! _Yes_ , you should have just left! I’ve asked you a question, kitten, and am waiting for your response. I’m not a patient person. Which is it? Is it that you don’t understand or that you don’t wish to be mine?”

Why has he chosen me—to pick on me—in this way? It’s too cruel! Is it because of how I spoke to him in the bath? Is it revenge for that? The tears burning my eyes threaten to spill over because my heart—more than _anything_ —wants to hear these words from him. This—like this—it’s just too mean!

“Ah!” I cry out again, lifting my back up off the couch when his teeth nip me again. He releases my hands and wraps his arms around my back, lifting me off the couch, pulling me in close, sucking on my nipples in turn—hard. The sounds coming from his mouth are embarrassing and lewd, but his touch feels amazing. I wonder if he’s going to give me another love bite like the one he left on my collarbone. I’m completely hard again but really annoyed, too. _Why_ is he doing this? This kind of temptation—with no intention to fulfill the desires of my heart—is willfully cruel! And worse—we are here in his bedroom—how far does he plan to take this today? How far will he go before he leaves me this time? My heart hurts. 

He can’t be serious. I hear his words, but they don’t make sense. This game has gone on too long—it’s become cruel, toying with my emotions like this, especially since I find him so damn attractive! In a sobbing voice, I cry out, “ _Why_ are you doing this!? _Please_! Don’t do this!” 

I grab two handfuls of his hair and I pull as hard as I can. Rai hisses, rising up from my chest and grabbing hold of my wrists in an instant—grabbing me hard enough to let me know he could break the fragile bones of my wrists if he wanted, and hard enough to leave bruises. His fangs protrude from his lips, and claws—long and dangerous—are drawn from the tips his fingers—but I don’t know what else to do at this point to get him to stop.

The tears I’ve been holding back finally spill from my eyes—I’m so frustrated at being manipulated like this! I _won’t_ be the butt of his joke any longer!

“Why are you treating me this way? _Handling_ me like this? _Touching_ me like this? _Talking_ to me like this? _Teasing_ me like this? Is this some fucked up kind of _hazing_? Do instructors get off on hazing new students here? I’ve heard _everyone_ is interested in you, Rai-Sensei! Why are you _touching_ me like this? Why did you... _do_ that to me, last night, outside during dinner? You—stole my first kiss—and my first... _experience_ —all in the name of your stupid game!” 

I realize I’m sobbing loudly, out of control, but I can’t stop.

“And Razel—he _humiliated_ me in front of the class—he got off on it! He knew I couldn’t read and put me on the spot in front of everyone, then kept me afterward and punished me severely for it! He beat me—he fucking _spanked_ me—telling me this was _education_! Is this—am I—just some kind of _joke_ to you? Some brat whose emotions you can play with? It’s just too _cruel_! I have to _live_ with myself!”

It’s getting difficult to make my words understood through my sobs, and my raised voice and tears are only making it worse.

I’ve still got my hands full of hair, but Rai has stopped growling, retracted his claws and hidden his fangs. He’s also loosened his grip on my wrists to a gentle hold, which means he’s allowing me to pull his hair—I must be hurting him—and he’s putting up with it. 

Instead, his face softens. He reaches out and rubs my ears gently, petting my hair, from the tips of my ears to my shoulder, and then he repeats the motion, in gentle soothing strokes.

“Hush now, little one. Don’t cry,” he whispers. “I’m _not_ hazing you, and I didn’t mean to frighten you, I promise. This is no game for me.”

“Then— _why_?” I sniff and hiccup the words through my sobs. “Why else would someone like _you_ be doing this with _me_?”

“You simply _fascinate_ me,” Rai says softly, that pale blue eye meeting my gaze. “I would _never_ toy with someone’s emotions like that. Not for any reason. First, it’s too much effort. Second, it’s simply cruel, you’re right. Razel is most likely interested in you, too, but he has an odd way of showing it.”

“What?”

“I mean _every_ word I said,” Rai continues. “I consider you _mine_. I marked you as such—didn’t you find my mark on you this morning, claiming you as my own?” His hand brushes my collarbone right at the clavicle, under my shirt.“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I saw you playing in the water yesterday—and nothing like this has _ever_ happened to me before. I’ve _never_ felt this way about anyone. Not ever. There’s something about you—the way you move, the directness of your gaze, these ears, your compact body, your voice—that _calls_ to me.”

I can’t believe my ears. I look at him suspiciously. His hand moves to my face, stroking my cheek. 

“More than anything, I want to take _all_  of you, right here, right now, for myself—love every _inch_ of this little body of yours till you can’t breathe, can’t speak, or walk straight—and keep you locked away from the rest of the world so no one ever lays eyes or hands on you again—keep you _just_ for myself. But I know that would crush your spirit.”

He is frightening me. Is he for real? 

“And I _love_ this spirit I see in you. I think—I think you have something I’ve been searching for a long time.” 

“Y-you aren’t j-just h-hazing me?” I stammer nervously. After that talk of loving every inch of me, my face has grown quite warm, I’m most likely blushing again—and I wonder what he means. More of what happened yesterday? Different... things? More? What else is there, exactly? My curiosity is piqued, and my dick twitches again.  

His hands skim along the sides of my body, down my waist, and I inhale sharply, losing my ability to breathe for a moment. Maybe—well, what if he is telling the truth? Is he really serious? 

“You _do_ like me, don’t you?” He has lowered his mouth to my ears, his hands have reached my waist, and I shiver again—one of his hands is directly over my groin—pressing above my clothes, but he can feel how hard I am—probably the motive for his current question. 

“Of course I like you,” I hiss, almost combatively. “I think you’re very attractive. But I’m not so sure you feel the same about me. I still think you may be hazing me.” 

At my words, he pulls his face away from my ears and looks me in the eye.

“What would convince you?” Rai asks, directly. “What would you have me do to convince you? If it’s not beating up a fellow teacher for your sake, or inviting you to sit with me during your first dinner at our academy, in front of the entire student body, or not punishing you like I would other students for speaking to me disrespectfully like you did when you first met me in the bath? Would you like to move in with me?”

He pulls something out of his breast pocket and slams it down on the coffee table next to the couch, right next to my face. It makes a metallic clinking sound.

“I thought you’d say no, since we just met. However, after seeing Razel’s treatment of you, you will _definitely_ need a second safe place to go while you’re on campus, closer to your classes. This is yours. It's a key to my room. Use it—whenever you like. You will be welcome anytime, day or night. Do you understand?”

I realize my mouth is hanging open at his words.

I start to struggle, struggling to sit up, staring at the key on the table.

“Wait, wait, wait—just a second,” I say. “You’re giving me a key?”

“Yes.” 

“To your room? To this room?” 

“Yes. Bring over a change of clothes if you like. I’ll get an extra toothbrush for you—or you can feel free to use mine, but it might be a little big for your mouth, though. _No_ _pajamas_ , though. Those won’t be necessary.” He gives me a wink. 

Trying to ignore his last comment, I ask, “But what if you’re busy with... someone else? Should I knock?”

“I won’t be. There is no one else. Sometimes, I have a friend over, my friend Koujaku, for drinks and advice, but you’d be welcome to join us. No need to knock. Use your key and come in, as if it’s your own place. Take it, use it. You may find a time in which you need a safe place and you can’t get back to your own room, or you may want or need some company. I’ll be waiting for you. However—“ 

Rai presses his body up against mine again. 

“However, keep in mind that I’m _not_ like your friend Tokino. Don’t use me like that. I won’t stand for it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nod, a bolt of fear shooting through me. A question burns in my mind—about the mark he left on me. Should I ask? What am I supposed to do about it when I change? Did he even think of that? And what of the school policy between students and teacher relationships? Is this even okay? 

“Rai-Sensei—“ 

“Just call me Rai when we are alone, Konoe.” 

“All right. Rai, is the school okay with teachers and students dating?”

“Well, during mating season, there isn’t much that can be done about compatibility, and since it’s just around the corner, I think we only have to keep this under wraps for a short while. The policy is unwritten. As long as I don’t show you favoritism in my class, it shouldn’t be a problem. And I won’t. In fact, if anything, you should know I may go harder on you than my other students. I’ll expect more from you.” 

He gives me a strange look at this point. I return it and ask, “What?”

“Have you had much opportunity to use your sword?” 

“Well, I’ve been defending my territory since I was five, but I’ve never had any formal training.”

“I see. Do you have any musical ability in your family?”

What a weird question! 

“Mom said dad loved to sing. It was one of the things that made her fall for him. He wrote her a song when he first started courting her.”

“Did he, now?” 

“Yeah. She said he was always singing. She missed that a lot when he was gone.” 

“Hmm. Do you ever sing? Or have you ever?” 

“Oh, no—Not really. At least, not since Mom was alive. She used to have me sing for her since she said I reminded her of him. But since she died, I’ve never sung since.”

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity.”

He keeps looking at me, though, and I look away, which is awkward since he’s still sitting on me. His hand comes out and brushes my hair away from my face.

“I think I should like to hear you sing sometime. Perhaps you’ll write me a song, too?”

“Huh? Oh—no. I couldn’t.”

Rai simply smiles indulgently. “Now—it seems to me we were in the middle of something just a little while ago, but someone interrupted it with an angsty fit. Are you satisfied now? Will a key to my place help you realize I’m serious about you?”

“Oh, er, yes. I suppose it does.” I still can’t quite believe it. “Although—”

Rai sighs in disbelief. “What now?” 

“Although I don’t understand what you’d want with me. I’ve seen many of the other students here, and there are lots of others here who are more attractive than I—”

“Not to me.” He won’t even let me finish my sentence. 

“...”

“What? Don't you believe me? I can show you if you like?” The tone of his voice has grown much softer quite suddenly, both sexy _and_ soft. “Give me your hand.”

He takes my hand in his, and then he shockingly presses it on the outside of his trousers—where I can feel that he is definitely not playing around. And holy shit! He isn’t just a tall cat—he is _really_ well endowed! 

“I told you. This can’t be faked,” his voice purrs softly in my ear. “So—I was wondering, what kind of lesson do you want today? You seem quite inexperienced—I thought you might be from your actions last night, and I’m honored to have stolen your first kiss and first... _experience_ of any kind. But we can go slow if you want, or—”

His hands release mine and he slips one of his into my trousers, which are conveniently already undone. A small moan comes from my lips when his fingertips lightly brush my dick.

“Or I can teach you something new if you like. And we even have access to a bed here. What sounds good to you?”

It isn’t _really_ fair to ask me like this, I think, as his fingers wrap around me. 

He stands up, keeping his hand where it is and lifts my body up with his other arm—easily. He moves me to the bed, setting me down gently, and he kisses my mouth when I hit the mattress. 

I return the kiss— _not at all_ gently—nipping his lips, almost biting his tongue—showing my eagerness. 

Smiling down at me, he says, “It looks like a lesson it is, then.” 

He climbs up next to me and attacks my ears again—he really seems fascinated with my ears. I try to duck my head—it really tickles—or _something_ —when he brings them into his mouth like that, when his tongue delves deeply into my ear and squishes around inside. It sounds vulgar and nasty, and it turns me on something fierce, making my cock drip transparent drops of fluid even without anyone having to touch me directly.

While he is licking my ears, I timidly and shyly move my hands to his belt and unbuckle it. I’ve never done such a thing—and it shocks me to think I’m doing such a thing to one of my instructors. I should be punished for doing this—the thought runs through my head—and just as it does, I hear his voice, whispering softly, “And what do you think you are doing?” But he makes no move to stop me.

My lack of experience shows at this point, because I know I can at least take his dick out of his pants—freeing it from the constraints of the fabric—and shit—he’s even bigger than I thought—it’s a little frightening! In the back of my mind somewhere, a part of me knows that this is supposed to fit inside of me somewhere, but I just let _that_ fearsome thought fall to the side for now. Instead, I use my fingertips to stroke him, making him even harder, and I can hear his breathing softly responding—since his mouth is right next to my ears. It makes me feel good—that something _I_ am doing gives him pleasure.

His hand is still in my trousers, too—and I think I’ll mimic what he is doing to me—a firm touch—concentrating on the hilt and then also the head—and then I press my thumb into the tip, which causes a throaty, purring sigh to rattle in my ears and also makes him temporarily loosen his grip on me.

I use this moment to lean down and rather impulsively and indelicately shove as much of his dick as will fit into my mouth. It’s done in the heat of the moment—remembering how good he made me feel yesterday.  I want to reciprocate those feelings if I can. 

I have to use my hands, too, because I will choke if I try to put all of him in my mouth at once. There are rather erotic sounds coming out of my mouth at the same time. Plus, I think I hear him protesting, “Oy! What are you doing! Oy! Stop it!”

But I know it should feel good, so I don’t stop. I wrap my tongue around his dick while it’s inside my mouth and I purr, letting the vibrations of my purr affect him. The more I relax, the more of him I can take into my throat, I find, so I only need to use one hand to guide him as I bob my head up and down.

When I open my eyes, I watch Rai—his eye squeezed shut almost painfully—trying to stifle his cries, but his Adam's apple bobs up and down, and he has just a slight flush on his face—lying on his back with one knee bent, his hands in my hair, grabbing me gently, guiding my head. It’s such an erotic image—I’m covered with goosebumps—I _made_ him this way. I brought this cat into this state, and I want to see how far I can take him. His tail occasionally lashes against the bed, and I have an urge to grab it.

Trying not to choke, I bring my mouth up close, relaxing my throat, and I grab his tail with both hands. I have to grab hold of his hilt with one of my hands, however, to prevent choking—he is growing too large to take into my mouth. I move my mouth out a little further to the end of his dick, grabbing the hilt firmly, but his eye flies open when I’ve grabbed his tail.

“Oy!” 

My other hand combs through the thick, silky fur of that tail. It’s so soft, so warm—and it lashes in my hand, trying to break free.

“Oy!”

The second warning was spoken a little more firmly, but I still don’t release him—his dick gets even harder in my mouth—does he _like_ having his tail played with? He _loves_ it, apparently—because in less than a minute—I feel something changing in my mouth, he's growing harder still, and he starts to resist me a little.

“Oy, bakaneko—you don’t have to—“

But I keep him in my mouth, as far back in my throat as I can, purring, and I keep stroking his tail, bringing my hand to the very tip of his tail. I even let go of his hilt, letting his hips fuck my mouth now—trusting he won’t hurt me—and he doesn’t. I need my other hand to run through the fur at the base of his tail, which makes him arch his back, and I hear an amazing, purring sigh, and a groan, and then suddenly, his body gives a slight jerk and I feel him release his cum into my mouth—it’s hot! It pours directly down my throat, which is relaxed and open, and oddly receptive. He has a strangely salty taste, which surprises me, but it’s not bad.

I lick off his still-hard dick with a few more long, grooming-style strokes of my tongue, and then pull him out of my mouth. I’m terribly proud of myself—that I was able to get this cat to that state—and I feel amazing—and _very_ turned on myself, my body tingling and purring like crazy.

Suddenly, my body is pulled up on top of his—his hands on both of my shoulders—and he kisses me full on the mouth—and I think, “Wait—won’t he taste himself?”

“And here I was planning to teach you something! Holy shit. Where did you learn something like that?” 

“Was that... bad?” I ask nervously, speaking into Rai’s chest, feeling his hands rubbing my back gently.

“Not at all—you just totally surprised me. I wasn’t expecting...”

“Do you enjoy having your tail touched?” I ask quietly.

It’s very quiet for a moment. “Well, why don’t you try it and tell me what you think?” Rai’s voice suddenly gets unexpectedly mischievous. He kisses my nose and switches our positions on the bed.

“Wait—no—you don’t have to...”

“Of course I do,” his voice sounds different when it’s between my legs. “I’m your instructor, aren’t I?” I could get used to hearing his voice from down there, I think, and my trousers and underwear are suddenly stripped off completely, much to my surprise.

“Wait—just a second—I don’t think—“

“Well, _I’m_ the instructor here, and I think this is necessary. Children should lower their ears and obey.”

What the hell? Is that the school motto or something? I don’t want to hear that again. But strangely, my ears are lowered, and I’m submitting.

The silver cat’s much larger body is pinning me down, and I feel his tongue and mouth skimming tantalizingly against my navel—my abdomen curves in with every touch—he follows his tongue with his lips, and it’s a soft, tender touch. I want to bring my knees up, almost to protect myself, but he weighs too much, and he is lying on me and won’t let me move.

I feel his hand at the base of my tail, massaging me there—just like last night—and then—his tongue skates across my bare hip bones—down toward my now painfully erect cock, which is indecently wet. The anticipation is killing me—I’m panting obscenely, sighing, and moaning in time to the strokes on my tail—and I start to feel light-headed from my gasping breaths like I might pass out.

Just the tip of my dick feels a damp touch—and I melt into it with a sigh. 

“Gods, please,” I’m begging—loudly—indecently loudly, my legs shaking. “ _Please_!” 

Then, a stroke from the hilt to the tip—making sparks fly in the back of my eyelids, and I cry out—that touch alone is almost enough to make me come. 

“ _Please_!” I cry. “Please, don’t tease me!” 

A few more firm strokes to the base of my tail, sending shudders of pleasure into my hips, they make me tip my hips forward slightly, bringing my hips up closer to his mouth and tongue. 

Then finally, so soft, so warm—so hot—I am completely immersed inside Rai’s warm mouth—his soft lips surrounding me slowly, sinking around my cock, letting me melt into him. I can’t help the sounds coming out of my mouth now.

“Raiiii...” My voice trails off, and tears squeeze from my eyes. 

I feel one hand massaging my tail roughly, the other cradling my ass gently, and his lips are now at the hilt of my cock—I’m totally immersed in his mouth. My cock is brushing the back of his throat, and I can feel the deep vibrations of his purr. That deep purr vibrates from my cock through the rest of my body, sending comforting tremors into my very bones. 

It’s too much—all _too much_ —and suddenly, I realize _where_ I am, _who_ I am with, and that I’m about to come— _right now._

The hand on my ass moves to caress the hooked tip of my tail, which sends a tingling sensation down my spine, while the other continues massaging the base, firmly, almost as though fucking it. My cock is immersed deep in Rai’s mouth—moving slowly in and out—Rai wrapping his tongue around my cock, moving his head—allowing me to fuck his plush lips. And then those sounds—he is humming softly, purring and humming—those vibrations—it’s as though my ears are being fucked, too.

My body starts to shake—I feel myself coming undone—falling apart—and there’s just a slight strange vision of a drop of water, falling into a pond—and the pond isn’t a body of water—it’s a body of _song_. I hear this melody inside my body and it rings out loudly just as I reach my climax—it rings out in my body, sounding loudly—in connection to this beautiful silver cat pleasuring me—I want to _be_ with him—I _yearn_ for him— _more_ of him—I want his _heart_ —that’s what this song says. 

The song doesn’t come out of my mouth, but seems to come from my body—resonating from my bones, my muscles, my tissues—like an illusion or an hallucination—it has to be just that—when my mind goes white and my body jerks and jolts and I shoot my cum into Rai’s mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure rushes through my body—and I hear that melody—soft, gentle, and powerful. It’s me—me for Rai—it says, _all I have is yours._  

The song is still ringing loudly in my ears and in my body when I’m left shivering on the bed after my climax, and Rai comes up to kiss my lips, and strokes my ears. 

“This is...” Rai looks at me curiously. “Konoe—are you perhaps singing for me?”

Can he hear it? It can’t be.

“Can you hear it? I thought it was all in my mind,” I answer, completely spent. 

Rai pulls himself up, wrapping his body behind mine, wrapping his long arms around my chest, placing a hand over my heart, resting his head on my shoulder. We listen together as the music fades. 

Once it does, however, my body is extraordinarily exhausted. Even more tired than it was yesterday. I feel like I have no power left. I can’t even lift my arms. I see something sparkling in the distance—and I realize it’s the key Rai had made for me. He has really given me a key to his room. I can’t believe it.

He gave me a key.

So this is real? Does he really feel the same way about me that I feel about him? This hasn’t just been a game to him? Is it because he thinks I might be a Sanga? Is that the only reason? Although, if it means I can be here, with him, like this, I don’t really mind. And he says I can come over anytime I want.

“No. The song wasn’t in your mind. It most certainly wasn’t,” Rai smiles. He starts to groom my ears. “My Sanga. You are my little Sanga. I knew it. Now sleep.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: some making out, groping, and non-consensual hickey and spanking in this chapter.

I end up sleeping through lunch as well as my entire afternoon schedule. Rai lets me sleep, and my nose twitches when I wake to the smell of something frying. That’s odd. Someone cooking for me—that hasn't happened in a while—not since my mother was around. It’s nostalgic.

“I’d forgotten how much you young ones need your sleep,” Rai’s easy comment floats into my consciousness, along with the delicious smells of cooking food. I don’t recognize the smell—it must be meat of some kind since I’ve had so little experience with it. Karou had so little, I never could afford any.

I groan loudly as I stretch out on the bed. I’m still suffering from some residual exhaustion I don’t understand. Perhaps from the song? Rai called me a Sanga—is that what it was? I want to ask—but for now, I stretch out, long and lean—on the bed—realizing with a start there’s a warm fire crackling in the hearth. Also, I’m _completely_ naked, sleeping on top of the covers. 

“Uuwa!” I make a surprised sound when I realize I’m not wearing any clothes, and I look around for something to wear or something with which to cover myself.

“What,” Rai asks, approaching the bed in an apron and chopsticks in his hand. “Suffering from some shyness all of the sudden? Cute! Here. Try this.” He offers me a bite.

“Mmm!” I can’t help my exclamation—and it almost sounds suggestive—especially since I’m naked. I blush, embarrassed by my free vocalization. “It’s delicious! What is it?”

“One of the only dishes I know,” Rai states proudly. “Chicken Katsu. I hope you like it.” 

“I've only ever had chicken here, at this place. I couldn’t get it in my village,” I say, finishing the food in my mouth. I watch as Rai sets out several bowls, chopsticks, rice, salad, and fixings on the table.

“Ah, that’s right—Karou is still having some shortages, isn’t it?”

“Yes, meat is hard to come by. I’ve eaten more meat in the past two days than I have in my entire life.”

“Possibly, that explains you Karou cats’ cute, compact stature. Come, let’s eat,” Rai suggests.

“Ah, all right, but, um,” I shyly ask, “where are my clothes?”

“Oh, I folded them up—they are on the chair by the desk.”

Over _there_? Across the _room_? What the hell?

“Don’t worry about it. Eat now, dress later,” Rai says, casually. When he turns around, to my utter shock, I see he too is naked beneath the apron he’s wearing. I see his bushy white tail and gorgeous, tight ass right below the bow he’s untying. Holy shit! He gives me a sly smile over his shoulder, arching his eyebrow, while he slips the apron from his body.

He sits down on the floor in front of the table of food, crossing his legs. “Come on, it’s hot now. Don’t make me wait.”

He is certainly much bolder than I am, I think. But my stomach is growling loudly—loud enough for him to hear it, I’m sure. He smiles at me when I quickly sit down across from him and help myself to the food in front of me. 

I’ve never eaten a meal without clothes on. Not ever. Not even when I lived alone and I ran out of clean clothes because I forgot to do laundry. I was too shy. I preferred to wear dirty clothes than be naked, even alone in my own home. I suppose if I’m going to be part of a couple, I will have to learn to change my ways. Still, this is embarrassing. And awkward. 

The meal is delicious—easily as good as what I ate last night in the dining hall, even better because I know _he_ took the time to make this for me.

“I missed my afternoon classes,” I say with dismay. “My first day—and I _missed_ them.”

“Don’t worry,” Rai replies, encouragingly. “You had reason to be tired. I’ve read that the song drains a lot of energy from the Sanga’s body, and you needed to rest and recover. This is really the most important reason for you to be here. Those other classes—well, they might help you to a certain degree, but really, I want you to train to control this new power of yours. That was the first time you sang, right?”

“It was,” I answer, looking down at my plate. “I’m not sure I could do it again.”

“Oh, all we have to do is reproduce the same conditions, and we can certainly get you to sing again,” Rai states confidently. I glance up, surprised at his tone, and he is wearing a smirk on his face. What the hell is _that_ supposed mean? “Now, ideally, it would probably be less embarrassing for you if I didn’t _have_ to get you quite so worked up just before an actual fight, but hell, I’ll do whatever it takes to hear that song from you again.”

“What??” I ask nervously. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean no more and no less than what I said. I think we can train you to call forth your song in other... conditions. That way we can keep this kind of thing more private, between us. However,” Rai takes another bite of salad, “if you don’t progress quickly enough for my tastes, I’ll do whatever is required to get you singing wherever and whenever I damn well please.”

That tone of his—its commanding and dominating nature—it raises goosebumps on my arms and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. And as he’s watching me, I give a little shiver. Shit—I know he saw me shiver.

“What? You don’t approve? Learn to control it yourself, then!” He sounds so laid back like this is something easy to do. “We will practice in class tomorrow. And you _won’t_ be missing my class, nor will you be late, not for _any_ reason, do you understand me?”

I take another bite of chicken, wondering if I’ve perhaps made an incredible miscalculation or error in judgment by getting involved with this cat. Perhaps I’ve misjudged him terribly, and I should have thought a little more carefully about this before jumping into bed with him. But really, I didn't just jump into bed with him, and neither did I come here on my own volition. He literally carried me here, over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“I wouldn’t mind if you acknowledged my last question,” the silver cat eyes me from across the table.

I nod slowly, wishing I’d gotten dressed before I sat down. That way, I could just sneak out of here now and avoid this _entire_ issue like normal cats would do.

“Audibly, I mean,” Rai continues.

“I heard you, all right? I _won’t_ be late, and I _won’t_ miss,” I say it in a rather annoyed tone, my eyes flitting to where my clothes are piled up neatly on the chair. 

“Are you thinking of sneaking out right now?” Rai asks. “I don't think so! You get to stay here and clean up the _dishes_ , little one, before you go anywhere!” That white bushy tail arcs widely and happily behind him.

The fuck did he just say? The _dishes_? Am I his fucking _wife_?

My face must show my disdain because he laughs, and he says, “If I cook, you clean. Vice versa is also true—you can cook for me _anytime_ , and I’ll be happy to clean up. You can even wear my apron.”

Fucking pervert! He just wants to see me in the apron!

“Is _this_ why you let me sleep?” I can’t keep the disbelief out of my tone. “You wanted to see me in an _apron_?”

“Well, what if I did?” Rai asks, leaning across the table, tapping my arm with his chopsticks. “What could you really have done about it? Would you have left? Crawled back to your room in the shape you were in? You couldn’t even move!”

I don’t know what to say. Rai tosses the apron to me with a charming smile, which suits him and melts my heart and makes it flutter, saying, “Or don't wear the apron. Do them in the nude—your choice. Either way is fine by me.”

Jeez! Really? Gods, between the two, shit, the stupid apron is better, so I put it on and start clearing the table. When I bend down to pick up his place setting, however, his hand slides up my bare leg, sliding up between my knees, all the way up my thighs to caress my ass. 

Shocked, I clumsily drop the dishes I’ve gathered, and he says, “Oy, now—I don’t have extras! Be careful!”

My face is so red right now, and I look down at him in frustration. But he just smiles again and pulls me into his lap.

“Gods, you’re _adorable_ when you’re angry!”

“Get off of me!” I’m humiliated and frustrated, and I want to get out of here, but his touch is too enticing—he knows just where and how to touch to loosen my resolve—and he doesn’t hesitate.

“This is what I’d do to make your song come out in class, you know,” he murmurs, keeping his hand between my legs. “You’re _starved_ for touch—your body cries out for it—even when you try to resist, you can’t help yourself. It’s insanely cute. I can’t _stand_ it.”

His lips press against mine to smother my next protest, as he holds me captive in his arms. “Maybe I should take you out of school and train you _privately._  What do you say? You stay here, keep house for me, cook and clean, wait for me to come home in nothing but this apron every day—like a present for me to unwrap. You'd be my own Sanga and companion!”

His fingertips skim over my ass—right where my thighs and ass meet—and it tingles there when he slips his hands in between my legs again. Despite my best efforts, my will to resist falls away, and I let him touch me where he wants. It feels too good. I _am_ desperate for it—for a connection with him. I want nothing more than a _connection_ with this silver cat.

I try to squeeze my knees together but end up parting them for his purposes, lewdly spreading my legs to let his hands caress where they will. And my dick is already hard again—I can’t help it—I don’t know _who I am_ around this cat. I become some sex-crazed, desperate creature when he touches me—and I hate it. I despise myself. 

Then again... Do I hate it? Perhaps I really love it, and I am just afraid of losing control, handing control of myself over to him. Before I know it, I’m returning his kisses passionately, straddling him—both of us naked on the floor with only the apron between us—and I feel his incredibly intimidating cock press up against my belly. Somehow, I know it’s supposed to fit inside me—but how? Won’t it hurt? Perhaps we aren’t such a great match after all.

“Hey,” Rai’s soft voice interrupts my thoughts. “Where did you go? Come back to me.” His hands move from aggressively grabbing my ass and tail to gently stroking my ears. “Are you worried?”

“Oh, ah,” I’m not sure how honest I should be at this point. What could I even say? I’m afraid of having intercourse with you because of your fucking massive member?

“Are you worried about Razel?”

Shit. I wasn’t. But _now_ I am. The name alone feels like ice water poured on my shoulders, and I realize I have to go back to his class.

“We can switch your classes. I’m going to speak with the headmaster tomorrow. I’ll tell him you sang for me, and he will let me do what I want with your schedule. I’ll get you out of that class. In the meantime, _don’t go_.”

There’s a soft touch on my ass—and I realize there’s a mark there, right at my sit spot, where his fingertips were brushing me just moments ago. It’s a straight edge, right against the skin there. From the ruler? Through my trousers? What the hell? How hard did Razel hit me?

“Motherfucker! He tried to mark you, too,” Rai suddenly growls. “That bastard!”

Rai sits up abruptly, frightening me with the unexpected movement. He tips me onto my back, and I hear him say, “I’ll be _damned_ if I’m going to let some devil mark my Sanga!”

“Stop!” I yell, scared out of my wits. This silver cat goes from tender to violently possessive in a matter of seconds, and he grabs my hips with both hands before the protest leaves my mouth. He flips me onto my stomach and folds my legs up underneath my body, exposing my sit spot. The position is humiliating—at least as humiliating as being bent over a desk. I hear him behind me, growling ferociously, and it terrifies me.

“W-wait!” I cry. “J-just a second! _Please_! L-let’s b-be c-calm and—“

“You _shut up_ ,” he says. “You should _never_ have been alone with him, let _alone_ allowed him to mark you like this.” Then I feel a warm, wet sensation right on that straight edge—where my thigh and ass meet. I squirm to get out of his grip, and I’m shocked by a hard slap to my ass—on the other cheek at my sit spot, which stings and makes me cry out. “Be still.”

Tears squeeze from my eyes—he _hit_ me! I can’t believe he actually hit me! It didn’t really hurt—in fact, it kind of felt good, in kind of a weird, stinging way, if I’m honest. But still. He _spanked_ me, and it really hurts my pride and my feelings. I _try_ not to cry, but I feel a sob building in my chest.

However, I obey Rai’s demand—his _command_ —that I lie still and not move. That wet sensation appears once more—then I feel the suction of his lips against my ass—and then it feels like more licking, sucking, nipping, and then—a bite. No— _ouch_! That’s _definitely_ a bite!

I struggle to keep still at this point, but I can feel my skin bruising. I can feel pressure from his teeth against the soft tender flesh of my ass—that is _not_ meant to be bitten, I know it—and I put the back of my hand against my mouth the stifle my cries. He’s _hurting_ me!

“Please!” I beg through my tears. “ _Please_ stop! Have mercy! _Please_! Stop! You’re hurting me!” My sobs are unrestrained at this point—what is he trying to do?

After a few minutes, with a popping and clicking sound, the pressure is released from my backside, just as suddenly as it started, and I feel a strangely comforting soft touch—still damp, but rough—also probably his tongue. It’s stroking me, languidly, long, gentle, grooming strokes, as though to comfort and soothe the pain he just caused. Strangely, that touch _does_ soothe the physical pain—but it doesn’t soothe the discomfort I’m feeling in my chest.   _Not at all._

He held me down in order to _bite_ me and _spanked_ me when I struggled to escape the pain. Of _course_ , I would struggle. It would be stupid not to, wouldn’t it? Who would allow something like this to be done to them? I realize I’m still crying—my tears still falling hard and fast, and I’m not trying to mitigate the effects his action has had on me.

I don’t care one bit about his reasons for marking me, I realize.

The very moment I feel his hands loosen their grip on my body, I wriggle free and bolt. I run across the room toward the chair, ripping the apron off my body and throwing it on the bed, and put on my clothes as fast as possible. I don’t say a word. I’m sure the buttons of my shirt are misaligned, but I don’t care, and I shove my tie and vest in my bag.

“Konoe,” Rai’s voice sounds pained, filled with regret. “I’m sorry. Please, let me try to explain. But it’s late now. You shouldn’t be out at this time of night. You’ll be breaking school rules if you try to get back to your room now. Why not just stay here for the night?”

I look at him—he’s standing up, his white tail still bristled—but he looks genuinely apologetic. In fact, he looks almost _broken_ , if I’m honest. If I leave, I’ll be causing him _severe_ pain.

Maybe...

I set my jaw stubbornly.

Maybe he needs to learn he can’t just push me around whenever he wants.

I grab my bag and head for the door. After I push it open, though, I look over my shoulder. I still have tears on my face, but Rai—he looks _really_ miserable. What if he didn’t _mean_ to cause me pain? What if his experience of pain is different than mine? Am I really going to leave things like this? Because what I’m doing now—I _know_ I’m causing him pain, and it’s _deliberate_.

“I-I,” my voice is soft, and I stammer slightly, “I’m sorry. I j-just need s-some time t-to m-myself.”

He looks up at me, pain showing obviously in that clear blue eye, but a slim ray of hope shines through. He’s still nude, but he holds his tail in front of his body for modesty. He gives me a curt nod of his head and a thin smile and asks, “You’ll stay away from the discipline committee, right?” 

“I’ll be careful.”

He hesitates—acting like he wants to touch me, but he’s afraid to reach out, almost as though he’s afraid I’ll shrink back from him and reject his touch. My heart tells me to kiss him, but I persist in my stubbornness and walk out the door, heading back to the dorm.

Once I’m outside, I realize I have _no_ idea where I am. Plus, it’s dark. The only light is from the light of the moon of shadow, and it isn't full. I was upside down when I was brought here, and I have a horrible sense of direction to begin with.

Twice, I try to head back to Rai’s apartment, and I can’t find it with any confidence, either.

I become terribly flustered and am about to go out to the woods to find a place to sleep when I finally see a small group of cats wandering around campus. They see me before I see them, and relief spreads through me.

“I’m so glad to have found someone!” I exclaim. “I was just about ready to spend the night in the woods because I can’t find my way back to the dorm.”

“Is the little kitty lost?” One of the cats almost purrs. His voice sounds strange.

“Are you a new student here?” There’s a cat in front, tall with a slim build, with black hair, black ears, and long black fur, oddly dressed in shiny black from head to toe. That’s not the student uniform, I realize. His eyes have a blood-red glimmer under the moonlight.

“Yes,” I reply, not able to help my staring. “Are you? I don’t recognize your uniform.” 

Before I can process his movement, the black cat’s arm shoots out and grabs my collar. He moves more quickly than my eye can process. “Welcome,” he says. “I’m Shiki. I’m the head of the discipline committee, and you’re out after hours. Your ass is mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, readers, I have to confess, I'm getting into this story, and I am spending WAY too much time thinking about where it can go. I have too many ideas and am having a little trouble narrowing down the plot. I'm hoping I don't start something completely insane next, so just bear with me here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: attempted sexual assault, non-consensual touching and groping, humiliation, violence.

“Wh-what?” My voice is quivering as much as my body. Shiki’s red eyes are terribly intimidating, but I scarcely have time to notice, when he grabs my collar and drags me down the hallway. “Let me go! I-I’m just trying to get back to my dorm room!” 

“Yep, but it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?” he growls. The other two cats follow us, chuckling quietly. They are also much bigger than me—though not near as large as Rai. When the image of Rai flashes in my mind, and I realize I can’t be far from his apartment, and I try to remember if his window was open when I left. Maybe if I make more noise, there might be a chance he will hear me—so I start to struggle and call for help. 

“Hey! Stop it! Let go of me! Hey!”

“You’re the one breaking school rules,” one of the other cats states plainly. He’s got straight, long blonde hair, matching long fur on his ears and tail, and his blue eyes are sparkling gleefully. Is that a tattoo I see under his shirt? A student with tattoos? What kind of disciplinary committee _is_ this? “No one is coming to help you. We _rule_ the school after dark here. We have full approval from the dean himself to teach kittens like you to follow the regulations.”

“ _And_ help you grow up a little, too. You _should_ have read all about us in the rulebook,” says the third cat. He has a darker complexion, dark hair, and short, spiky fur. He’s even broader than the blond, both rougher-looking and older. He’s got scary-looking scars on his face, and he frightens me with his talk of growing up. “What? You haven’t had a chance to read the rulebook yet? It _smells_ to me like you’ve been spending too much time fucking a certain instructor to bother with those details, am I right, chickie?”

“Is _that_ what I smell?” the blonde cat purrs, pushing his nose against the back of my neck, and I shiver in aversion. “Is that fencing instructor any good? He looks like he would be a fantastic lay. I’ve _always_ fantasized about him. He won’t get with _anybody_ here—he’s too _good_ for the likes of us—even during mating season. Yet for some reason, he took to _you_ on your very first day. Makes us just a _little_ curious, you see, nekochan _._ ”

“This one is mine,” Shiki growls lowly. “Perhaps if he isn’t to my liking, you can have a taste when I’m finished.”

A _taste_? Finished—with _what_ exactly? What the hell _is_ this? Bile rises in my throat. This is no disciplinary committee—this is _dangerous_. I feel threatened, and I start to resist as though my life and body are at stake, but my mind feels oddly slow and sticky—as though I’m frozen in fear. My fur fluffs up and bristles, my claws draw, I bear fangs, and I use all my strength—which is exhausted from my earlier song, as well as having eaten too much at dinner, and probably from having expended myself in Rai’s bed earlier—but I don’t have time to think about that now.

However, I am really, _really_ regretting my foolish, stubborn behavior in leaving like I did, ignoring Rai’s request to stay, thinking I’d teach him a lesson. I swallow the last of my pride and scream at the top of my lungs for help.

When Shiki punches me in the face, it silences me. The blow is hard enough so I see stars, and I lose consciousness for a moment, because I wake up on the ground, tasting blood in my mouth, not knowing how I got there. I don’t feel the pain until I come to, and then my lower lip starts to swell, throbbing in time to the beat of my heart. It took me completely by surprise and throws me for a loop, temporarily freezing my resistance.

“See, that’s better, isn’t it? A _submissive_ kitten is much cuter than one that fights back,” It’s the creepy blond talking. “He isn’t your type, Shiki. You should just let me have him. I  _love_ the feisty ones.” 

My head is spinning, and I see red eyes peering down at me.

“Gunji, not your call. Kitten, you’re out of uniform, too. It’s another violation. You’re out after curfew, out of uniform, _and_ loitering in the instructors’ quarters. I can only _guess_ why by your smell.” I notice the corners of Shiki’s lips curve up slightly, though my vision still shakes.

Gunji—the blond cat—continues in his creepy sing-song voice, “And I hear you missed your afternoon classes, too—after an abysmal performance in your first class today. Did Razel-Sensei ask you to stay after?”

“We can check!” the dark-haired cat sounds strangely eager, but I haven’t been able to get my head to stop spinning or my confusion under control.

My shirt is ripped open all at once: the buttons fly in all directions, and I hear them scattering to the floor, my ears twitching in all directions to the sound. It is roughly torn from my body while I’m still sitting on the ground, unable to defend myself. Then, to my horror, I hear the clinking of my belt buckle, which is easily slipped off my waist. I feel large hands, pulling my trousers off my hips. I realize what’s happening much too late and after the fact—they are _stripping_ me right here in the hallway.

“Wait—Stop—What are you doing!?—Let me go— _Please_!—Get your hands off me—Stop this—Stop!” I’m scratching and biting, but as one small cat against three larger ones, I have little effect.

“Kiriwar, look, he’s cute when he’s all fluffy like that, isn’t he? Maybe we should just take him with us, don’t you think? But stop this resistance—we know you _want_  it—enough!”

Gunji scratches me across the chest—hard—with a sharp razor-like weapon—and I cry out loudly—what the fuck _was_ that? Blood oozes down my chest and abdomen in three parallel narrow lines. There’s no way this injury was from his claws alone, and I scrabble away from the cats stripping off my clothes, realizing I’ve _helped_ them take off my pants and am now almost naked—exposed and vulnerable in just my underwear.

I’m in a state of shock from the injury, my body shaking, and when I hear a low voice—Shiki’s—addressing the other two cats, “I already told you, this one is _mine_. Get your hands off of him. I’ll take this one. I want him for my _personal_ collection.”

“Aw,” Gunji sounds disappointed. “We just wanted to _see_. Kiriwar and I just think he is cute—plus, if he could capture the silver cat’s attention, he’s got to be something special. And look—he’s so scared now that he’s shivering. We _love_ it when they’re scared.” 

“Ah, look at that tail,” Kiriwar exclaims. I thought I was out of reach, but he snatches up my tail in his hand, and he gives it a yank—pulling me back toward them. My claws scratch against the floor, digging into the ground, my nails threatening to break, and I feel my spine cracking from the harsh wrenching of my tail. “It’s crooked! I’ve never seen one like this, have you?” He brushes the fur on the tip of my tail backward quite roughly, and again, extreme repugnance roils in my stomach—almost enough to make me sick.

Having my tail stroked by Rai was extremely pleasurable, but this isn’t like that at _all_. This feels like molestation, a violation, an assault. As soon as I gather my wits about me, I pull my tail from his hands and shrink away in disgust. 

My fur is fluffed out fully, and I cower on the floor when Shiki approaches—and gods, he’s _fast_. He pulls me to my feet by the neck, crushing my windpipe. I can’t breathe or make even a single sound. Terror rushes through my body from the core of my body out to the tip of my tail, leaving my ears twitching and my fingers and toes tingling. The thought blazes through my mind that I might actually be killed here. What the hell is this!? Does the school intend to _kill_ the students who stay out past curfew?

“Let go of me! Please!” I try to speak, forming the words with my lips, but no air or sound comes out since my vocal cords are constricted. All I can do is maintain eye contact with this cat—as creepy as those hard red eyes are, and as vulnerable as I am, I can’t let him see my terror.

“Ah, so you _do_ have the balls to look back at me, even when you tremble in fear,” Shiki murmurs. “I _like_ that. I think you’ll be a great addition, a plaything for my _other_ pet.”

Did he say he has a  _pet_? What kind of school _is_ this? He releases my neck and grabs my arm, hard enough to leave bruises, and then fingers the mark on my sternum. The gentle caress on my bare collarbone makes me recoil.

“What’s this?” he murmurs. “Is this a love bite from the silver cat? Does he really think marking you like this is going to keep you safe?”

Shiki pulls my body in close and rubs his nose against my neck, smelling me and rubbing his scent on me, and all the hair on my body stands up. The touch I endure is utterly _repulsive_ —and I suddenly realize I am going to vomit. All the cells in my body are rejecting this touch—and all at once I become aware of my lack of clothing, a protective barrier, and the proximity of his body to mine.

“Get off me!” I shout. “Don’t touch me!”

“What? You don’t _like_ it? It’s obvious you’re loose if you let him fuck you on your first day. How do you know you won’t like me, too, if you haven’t even tried?” His already husky voice lowers even more. “Who says you have to be _exclusive_? I noticed you at dinner. I was disappointed when he dragged you off so urgently before I could get to you.”

He licks my neck—from my collarbone to my jaw—and I am sickened. It feels _so_ gross—I can’t even begin to describe the sensation, but it makes my stomach turn. Also, my frozen brain is finally starting to make the unpleasant connection about what is _actually_ happening. I realize he _isn’t_ planning to beat me up. That isn’t what is going on right now. He has other intentions. Oh, shit! He _isn’t_ going to beat me up!

“I’m going to be sick,” I warn urgently. “ _Please_ —don’t touch me—I’m going to vomit!”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re fine.”

With those words, he grabs my hips and flips me around—much to my horror—and violently pushes me up against the wall. I have to catch myself with both hands to prevent my face from being crushed against it. The sudden motion along with his hands on my hips frightens me enough to make me gag—and I lose about half my meal onto the floor in front of me. Looking down, I realize I've lost my shoes as well, and I hadn't even noticed.

“Oh, ho, did nekochan just lose his kibble?” Gunji says.

I hear the dark-haired cat laughing, too. “He _really_ must be scared. Are you sure we can’t have him? That’s the way _we_ like to play.”

Coughing and gagging, I try again. “ _Please_ —all I want is to get back to my room. _Please_ —I haven’t done anything to you. _Please_ —let me go. Just leave me alone! What do you even want with me?”

As if in direct reply, my underwear is roughly yanked down to my ankles, sending another repulsive shiver through my body, and I feel his fingers rubbing my ass—against my cheeks and sliding between them—and then tracing along my sit spot. My skin crawls with every touch of his hands, shadowing the places his fingers have touched. I _hate_ it—and I feel tears brimming in my eyes. This vulnerability and humiliation are too much to bear!

“I see Razel’s trademark here—his ruler—which means you’re his _favorite_. You’d best be careful if he’s got his eye on you. And then _this_ —gods— _that_ guy—wow. I had _no_ idea. He really _is_ possessive. I’d better make this quick. I’d hate for him to show up now.” Shiki speaks in a low voice, right into my ear, hovering behind me, making me shudder.

At the top of my lungs—with _all_ my heart—I call once again for help. Fear grips my chest so tightly—fear that I didn’t feel even when Razel was beating me. I don’t think I’ve _ever_ been so afraid.

“Get away from me—don’t touch me!”

His hands pinch my hip bones even tighter—they will be bruised tomorrow—and then, an almost audible sound in my brain clicks when it occurs to me what situation I’ve gotten myself into—and I start to panic. I throw up again—heaving and gagging—and I scream for help.

“Anyone—help me—please!”

“You realize that from now on, you’re _mine_. I can access you anytime I like. I will visit your room if I please. _Anytime_.”

“Please—don’t— _please_ ,” I’m actually crying now, the tears spilling down my cheeks. “ _Please_ don’t do this!” I try pulling away, drop to my knees, squirm out of his grip, _anything_. I trying desperately, but I cannot escape. He has me trapped here. “Please—stop this—let me go!”

His upper body leans against me heavily, pinning me to the wall, and his finger presses between my cheeks once more, against my tightly closed hole—and even in my full-blown panic, I can’t move. Utter revulsion and fear creep into my heart—I’m sweating, and my legs shake uncontrollably.

“Huh,” I hear a soft confused sound, still spoken directly into my ear. “Did that silver cat really not touch you after all? I don’t mind being your first.” I feel the force of his finger pushing against my asshole again, trying to force me open, and I lower my tail and try to squirm away, my panic rising to the level of hysteria, my breath coming in short small pants. My tail is pulled roughly once again, and I let out a scream of pain when his finger enters me.

I hear a slight rustling of clothes, and I squeeze my eyes closed, shedding more tears and loud sobs—continuing my desperate pleas—and the sound of other two cats chuckling assaults my ears. But my ears perk up when a sudden silence—an eerie, unusual silence—comes over the hallway. Then two soft but heavy sounds thump quietly, one right after the other: thud and thud. When I glance over my shoulder, I can't believe my eyes. It's something I didn't expect, and something I really, really, _really_ want, and I burst into tears of relief.

“What the fuck are you doing to my Sanga?” Rai low voice rumbles.

He’s huge. His fur is fully bristled, making him twice his usual large size, nearly twice the size of Shiki—his tail fluttering behind him. He’s carrying weapons—two swords—one in each hand. From what I can tell, both are sheathed, and he hit the other two cats over the head with them, hard enough to knock them unconscious. “Get your hands off him, right now, so I don’t have to kill you.”

“He’s breaking curfew, and as you can see, he’s currently out of uniform,” Shiki replies almost casually.

Rai looks at my torn clothes on the ground. “I’m sure you and your cohorts had _nothing_ to do with that. Step _away_ from him.”

My heart is still racing when Shiki’s hands release my hips, and I crumple to my knees. I vomit again, several times, my body wracked with dry heaves as soon as it empties itself on the ground.

“Why don’t you clean up this mess here, and I’ll take care of him,” Rai growls. “Are you _really_ going to tell me you didn’t notice my scent on him? You didn’t happen to see a mark or two on him?” Rai's usually calm voice sounds angry, as he grabs Shiki’s collar, looking down into his eyes. “I know I taught you better manners than that.”

“I think this is the closest I’ve ever been to you, Rai-Sensei. I could get _used_ to this,” Shiki’s speaks in a honeyed tone.

“Shut the fuck up!” Rai pushes him away and approaches me. I am still shaking and cowering in fear. He takes a deep breath before he touches me. He tries to control his voice before he says, “Ah, shit. You're injured. Come.” 

Instead of letting me move on my own, he scoops me up in one arm, gathers my scattered clothes and belongings with the other, and carries me back to his apartment, completely unconcerned with my nudity. 

Once we get back to his apartment, he sets me down on the bed and pulls up a chair. The first thing he does is examine my chest, pushing me down against the bed, more roughly than I would prefer, of course. And instead of cleaning the wound with water, he licks it, which sends shivers down my spine. It's overly stimulating.

"Be still," his voice is low. "I want to get this clean. It's not a deep injury, but I don't want it to scar."

Easy for him to say—he isn't the one being held down and licked. It tickles! However, as soon as he finishes, he sits back down in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, and looks at the floor. I can tell he’s still upset before he speaks. He takes another deep breath before opening his mouth. 

"Do you have any other injuries?"

"No, I'm okay," my voice sounds small and quiet in the apartment. There's a short pause and a sigh before he speaks again.

“When I suggested you stay out of the way of the discipline committee as you were leaving, I thought you understood the urgency of my request.” His voice is back to its usual calm tone.

Lying on the bed, I’m still shaking, and I still feel slightly sick. But I’m also concerned with my lack of clothing, so I’m fussing with my tail, trying to make it lie still and cover me appropriately. Rai dropped my belongings on the couch when he entered, which is too far for me to reach, and slipping under the covers would be a little awkward at this point. I mean, he just licked me from my chest to my belly, so I probably have no reason to be shy. 

“That was the plan, but I-I got a little lost. I got turned around.”

“You went on a _walk_?” He sounds incredulous.

“N-no. I-I couldn’t find my room. Or your apartment. Or anything. I got _lost_.” I’m looking down, at my tail, concentrating on it, hoping that will make it stay still and cover me. It doesn’t. It continues flicking around haphazardly, showing my obvious embarrassment and anxiety.

“You got lost.” He is still awfully fluffy, and he looks really upset, but his voice is calm and almost gentle.

“Yes. I d-don’t have the best sense of direction. Like the first night I was here and the dining hall?” I hate to remind him of that embarrassing meeting, but it is proof of my lack of directional ability.

“Ah,” he remembers. “You really were lost?” His eyebrows raise doubtfully.

“… Yes.” I do not look at his face, but I watch that fluffy tail of his swish back and forth thoughtfully. There is a long pause at this point, and finally he sighs. His voice remains quiet and gentle.

“You _do_ realize what was about to happen to you, don’t you? If I hadn’t shown up when I had?”

My breath hitches unexpectedly, and a sob sneaks out, surprising me. Tears slip through shortly thereafter, and the dam breaks, flowing like a river, and I burst out into a crazy, emotional mess. Words start flowing, too, and I’m unable to stop myself.

“I _know_ , and I _do_! I was so, so _scared_! I have _never_ been so afraid in all my _life_ , and it was _all_ my _fault_! I’m so, so _sorry_! I should _never_ have left. I had no _idea_ what the disciplinary committee was about! I left here because I was _angry_ and _stubborn_ , and I thought I would teach you a lesson about how I wanted to be treated—how I _didn’t_ want you to push me around and bite me or hit me or be _violent_ with me—and then— _then_ —all _that_ had to happen—to teach _me_ a lesson a _million_ times worse—and I was so _totally_ helpless—but then you actually _heard_ me! And you came to _save_ me! _Thank you_! I’m so _sorry_!”

I am sobbing and crying, and I can’t stop. I feel awful. I just keep saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over, and I cover my face, and I don’t give a shit about what my tail is or isn’t covering anymore. I’m just a mess of tired, exhausted snot and tears.

“Ah, shit,” Rai says, and he approaches the bed, sitting down and pulling me into his arms. “Shh, stop now. Don’t cry. It’s all right now. You’re okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m sorry I frightened you. I didn’t mean to come across as so controlling, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hurt you. I don’t have a lot of experience with this either, and I get jealous. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go in any case, and I didn't know how to keep you here. I thought you knew about the committee, and I didn’t know you’d get lost, but still, I should never have let you leave. I knew it was a mistake when you left.”

He pets my ears and my head, running his hands through my hair, letting me get tears all over his shirt.

“But seriously, how the _hell_ did you get lost between here and the dorm? Are you _really_ a Ribika?”

That just makes me cry harder, and he chuckles quietly and squishes my ears against my head, saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just so unusual for a Ribika to have _no_ sense of direction _whatsoever_.”

“I know, but I just… I just don’t,” I sniff.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” I say. “I was too angry. And I was hurt. And I was too tired to think straight.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. Konoe, I was really, _really_ angry to see you like that. I don’t _ever_ want to see you in that kind of situation again. I’m afraid I may have started something with Shiki as well as Razel, so please promise me you’ll stay out of his way, too. You’ll stay with me tonight, okay?” 

“Okay,” I sniff again.

“Lie down,” he is ordering me around again already, but I’m honestly too tired to care or do anything else, so I curl up on his bed for a moment. “Do you need a glass of water—oh—do you want to brush your teeth? Or do you need something else to eat? You threw up, I saw. You must have really been afraid.”

“Um, yeah, I would like to brush my teeth,” I say quietly.

“Go ahead. And sleep in one of my tees, if you like. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want a shower?” He gets up and brings me a glass of something to drink. It burns my throat, and I cough when I have the first gulp since I was expecting water.

“Ugh, what is this?” I ask. 

“Just drink it,” Rai says softly. “It will help you sleep and calm your nerves. Come on, drink all of it now.” 

He watches me drink all of it—it’s probably a catnip-based liquor—and it makes me quite sleepy. Then he gives me a glass of water, while he helps me into the shower. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He hands me his toothbrush while I’m standing under the running water, and he scrubs my back—I feel him brush my arm and my hips with his fingers, where Shiki had been gripping me so tightly, and I wonder if bruises have appeared there. I let him wash my hair, and his hands feel nice. I can’t believe I’m showering with him—he’s _naked_! But that catnip stuff makes me not care so much.

“Whoops,” he catches me as my legs start to sway and my knees buckle in the shower. He wraps me up in a towel and helps dry my hair. “Have a little more water. Maybe I shouldn’t have given you quite so much liquor. Are you still awake, little one?” 

He pulls a t-shirt over my head—and it smells _so_ good—it’s like being wrapped in Rai’s body when he tucks me under the covers.

I snuggle in soundly—not even caring that I don’t have any underwear on—but _wait_! I’m not wearing underwear! Shit! My ears perk up suddenly at the realization, and I try to get back up.

“I don't think so,” Rai says, “You get back into bed. No walking around for _you_.” He comes back and tucks me back under the covers. “You’re going to fall. What do you need? I’ll get it for you. More water?” 

“Ah, um,” I say. Maybe nothing. Maybe I should just stay here and say nothing. “I’m fine.” 

His bed feels nice—even if he isn’t in there with me. The tee makes me feel like he’s wrapped up next to me. Just a few minutes later, he switches off the lights and climbs in behind me, leaving his towel to dry—I can feel his smooth muscular legs bumping up behind me, entangling with mine, and I can hear the click of his tongue in my ear just before he starts grooming me. Long, languid, soft strokes, so nice and relaxing, I can’t help purring.

“Feeling a little better?” Rai rumbles in my ear. He’s purring, too. “You’re not afraid anymore?”

“Mmm, no. I feel nice. Not at all afraid.”

I feel his tongue trace over each part of my ear carefully and then move to the nape of my neck. That sends tiny shivers down my spine and the length of my tail. I’m so glad I’m wearing that tee shirt, or I’m sure he’d notice the effect—but strangely, he keeps grooming. He moves further and further down my back, at first pulling down the neck and then rolling up the tee's hem to expose my skin, covering my back and my spine with those long languid strokes of his tongue. When he reaches my tail, he starts grooming it as well.

Then, I feel a light nip at the tip of my tail—ow! Then he sucks it into his mouth. Is he teasing me? I feel so strange—my eyesight is blurry, I’m purring, and the touch to my tail is terribly stimulating after that catnip liquor… Then—ouch! Another bite! What is this?

“Are you biting me on purpose?” I try to look over my shoulder, but I’m so relaxed I can hardly even move my head. My body feels like mush, and Rai runs his hands along my sides gently, letting them dip into the gentle curve of my waist.

“Shh. You sleep. You just smell so good,” he whispers. I hear him purring loudly behind me.

I can’t really move at all, and he just keeps licking—I’m helpless—and I complain softly, “Rai…”

I just let him do as he likes, and he gradually slows the strokes down to a rhythmic, hypnotizing pace. I don’t have much choice except to submit. I drift off to sleep while he licks my tail. It’s useless to resist—and I can’t keep my eyes open after a while.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Well, not much. 
> 
> Rai is acting pretty OOC in this chapter. He's kinda nice, actually. I think it's a good change for Konoe. He needs it, right? I feel bad since he's had such a hard time lately.

Rai gently wakes me in the morning. My arms and hips are marked with several mean-looking purple bruises, which I notice when I get dressed. I get chills when I think about coming across the disciplinary committee a second time.

“Are those guys going to harass me during the day, even if I follow all the school rules?” I ask. “Do I have a target on my back now?”

“You should be fine,” Rai says, resting a finger on the bruise on my arm. He does not look pleased. “Let me walk you to the cafeteria and to your first class, though, just to be safe. Your first class is mine, anyway.”

Won’t that make me look like the teacher’s pet? I wonder. I’m a little concerned about it—but as it turns out, that’s a needless worry.

While Rai _does_ tend to stare down other students (like Tokino) who try to approach me in the cafeteria, he certainly does _not_ go easier on me in class. If anything, he asks me more questions and works me harder when we spar, and I end up on my ass twice as often as any other student, it seems.

What the hell? I’m getting really frustrated with it, and I want to confront him. I understand that he doesn’t want to treat me differently, but he doesn’t have to be _quite_ so rough—especially considering the bruising already covering my body.

During one of our sparring sessions half-way through class, he disarms me and ends up right in my face, his wooden sword plunged into the ground next to my head, and I’m flat on my back on the grass. I didn’t even last ten minutes this time, and I’m panting hard and fast.

I’m really frustrated, and I’m about to explode, but he flashes me a grin from up close—his hair is draped over his face, brushing my chest, so the other students can’t see his expression. He whispers, “ _Sexy_! You’re doing great. Keep it up!”

His encouragement sends a little shiver through my body—it’s actually _quite_ pleasant and it makes the rough treatment seem worthwhile. Is he being hard on me specifically to help train me? Perhaps so I can protect myself better, and not end up in another situation like yesterday?

We join up with another class—taught by Koujaku—and the two instructors demonstrate some defensive moves. Koujaku is on the offense, and Rai lets his guard down. However, something strange happens to my body while I'm watching their exchange.

My heart rate starts to increase and beat erratically. I enjoy watching Rai fight—he’s elegant, his moves flow smoothly like a dancer—but this time, he is letting Koujaku getting the best of him. I know it’s deliberate, it's a class demonstration, but something in my body can’t _stand_ how it looks. He’s getting pushed back, losing ground, and something in my body starts to shift slightly. I feel something deep inside me coming loose—almost like it’s cracking open.

I start to shift uncomfortably in my seat, and Tokino, who is sitting next to me, asks, “Konoe, are you all right?”

“Um, yeah,” I answer. “I’m just feeling a little strange.”

Then—in my chest, I feel something bubbling up, something bigger than I am, and it scares me—it’s much, _much_ bigger than me—so how is this even coming from within my body?

I stand up suddenly, distracting the other students around me, but I don’t know what else to do—and then I hear it. It’s a melody—it’s the song from yesterday. It _has_ to come out—it’s demanding to be released— _right_ _now_. If I don’t let it out, I might explode.

So I allow it to come out, intending to let out just a tiny piece of the melody inside of me, but instead, a loud burst of song sounds from every part of my body—rattling my bones, vibrating the surface of my skin, the notes from the melody skating across my hair and fur—and the volume startles me, and everyone around me.

Thin tendrils of light flow from my fingertips, toes, tail, and even my ears, floating across the grass toward Rai—the particles of light working together to make delicate thin threads of light, reminiscent of strands of golden hair, drifting in the wind. Rai immediately looks in my direction—can he feel it? I think the song is for him. It feels like a song of protection and a song of strength. It’s meant to boost his power.

The students surrounding me give me more space, and Koujaku also backs up a little as well to admire the effect. The light completely surrounds Rai with a soft glow, and he takes a deep breath. When he inhales—I can feel it, I can actually feel him breathe in, smell what he smells. Then, even before he even moves, I know he is going to try to harness this new strength. I see a soft smile on his face, oddly—does he enjoy fighting this much? It’s a different expression than I saw earlier.

His speed increases exponentially—Koujaku can only defend—and _barely_ defend. He has a shocked expression on his face when he counters Rai’s movements blow by blow, barely managing to catch each strike, backing up one step at a time. Rai looks amazingly fast— smooth, elegant, and beautiful—like he’s surrounded by magic.

The melody sounds clear and sweet, strong and powerful—like the silver cat himself—it’s a melody for him, after all—and I’m surprised to hear it coming from within my body. It isn’t coming from my mouth, however. Instead, the song seems to resonate from within my body itself. There are lyrics, too—which I start to whisper in my own voice. They blend in perfectly with the melody. This didn’t happen before (in the bedroom). Then, it was mostly my voice blended with sigh and gasps, and frankly, I’m glad that isn’t happening here.

I sing for several minutes—but it’s hard to tell time during the song—during which Rai disarms Koujaku. Once he loses his sword, the song stops. It seems that was enough for my body, as well—the urge to sing has passed, and the melody slows. I feel a sense of relief, too, having released this strange power. And I see the silver cat approaching me quickly for some reason.

My vision starts to shake, my knees buckle, and I lose my balance and collapse. I would have fallen straight to the ground—since the other students have given me plenty of room (I think I may have frightened them with my singing)—however, Rai manages to catch me in his arms before I can hit the ground, and I fall into an embrace that publicly looks a little more intimate than I’d like to show in front of the other students.

I am powerless to do anything about it, however, since my strength is completely zapped. I have no energy left to even complain about how he is holding me. He sits down on the grass and holds me in his lap, brushing the hair from my eyes, holding me close.

“Are you all right?” he asks, as he peers down at my face. The smile has changed to a look of concern.

“I’m fine—I am just exhausted all of the sudden,” I say.

“You did very well,” Rai says. “You surprised even me.”

Koujaku addresses the students, “That, dear students, was the first time we’ve witnessed a genuine Sanga, singing for battle, in this class. As you saw, the song protected his Touga, and in this case, granted him extra speed and power for the fight. However, magic never comes without a price. Especially at the beginning, Sangas need to take care not to overexert themselves. The song itself is taxing on their bodies. Konoe did very well, however. He should probably rest for the remainder of the day.”

“I’m curious,” Rai asks. “Why did you only now start to sing? You could have prevented me from attacking you earlier today. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think of it.”

“You didn’t _think_ of it? What’s that supposed to mean? I felt an _amazing_ power in your song,Konoe—you didn’t think to use it some other way? Like to prevent yourself from getting thrashed?”

“Wait a minute.” I’m still lying in Rai’s arms, in front of all these students, totally zonked from singing—did he just confess to deliberately “thrashing” me on the field today? “Were you going extra hard on me on purpose?” I am stunned.

“I was.”

“Were you going all out?”

“Not quite, but as much as I thought you could take without physical harm.”

“What? _Why_? What on earth were you doing? I was already sore and bruised from yesterday!” I start to feel a certain degree of ire building up that wasn’t there before.

“Konoe, your song only comes out under periods of extreme duress or stress, but it isn’t when _you_ are under stress. I didn’t realize the connection until now, and I couldn’t be more pleased!”

What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand! You were _so_ rough!” I’m hissing my responses, trying to keep them between us.

“Konoe, your song came out in only one condition.” His voice is still frighteningly pleased, for some strange reason, which doesn’t calm me down at all.

“And what was that?”

“It was the position in which your _Touga_ was under extreme duress.”

“My Touga?”

“Yes. That would be _me_. You were watching me spar with Koujaku and you were _worried_ about me.” He takes this particular time to back up a little so he can look at my expression, and in return, shows me his, which can only be described as a shit-eating grin.

“What?” I _immediately_ become defensive. “No—I _knew_ you guys were doing that as a demonstration for the class—”

“That might be, but did you sing deliberately this time?”

“Well, not exactly. It was more like my body was going to sing whether I wanted to or not. I didn’t even realize what was happening at first.”

“That’s what it looked like from where I stood. You looked terribly uncomfortable. What your mind knows and what your instinct understands aren’t always the same. The song must lie within your instinct.” Again, there he goes with the pleased-as-hell grinning.

“What is there to be so damned happy about?” I grump, looking away.

“I’m just pleased you were worried about me. Your _body_ trusts me, even if the rest of you isn't quite there yet. I’ve made a friend, and quite a valuable one, it seems. My instincts were right about you.”

He strokes my hair and my ears softly, and I allow him do this—but only because I don’t have the power in my arms to push him away—but I realize we are getting some awfully strange looks from some of the other students. I feel my ears getting hot. He lowers his face to mind a drops a small, chaste kiss on my nose.

“You are causing unnecessary attention, Sensei,” I say stiffly.

“ _You_ are the one who started all said unnecessary attention,” Rai says, standing up, scooping me up in his arms. Addressing Koujaku, “I’m going to get this kitten some medical attention. Please see to the completion of my class for today, if you don’t mind. Thanks for a great sparring session! Let’s do it again and soon.”

I know that last line was for my benefit.

I hear Koujaku talking to the students, speaking to them about what it means to be a Sanga, and that by all rights, there should be at least another two or three Sanga within that group of students. We don’t know all there is to know about this type of martial arts, and we don’t want to let it die off, so if any students have any questions, feel free to ask.

I see many hands go up as I’m carried off the field, and I feel my ears blush even more deeply when Tokino waves madly at me.

“Tokino, do you have a question?” Koujaku asks.

“Ah—oh, no,” he is obviously embarrassed. “I was just concerned for my friend. Is he going to be all right? What happens if he expends all his energy like that?”

As Rai is carrying me, I wonder, is _this_ why he was interested in me in the first place? What if I _didn’t_ sing for him? Would he still be interested in me? Is it the power I grant him that interests him, or is he interested in me, myself?

I feel tears burn the back of my throat when I think of these things. The expression on his face—Rai was so immensely pleased, I think, when I was singing—was so beautiful that I can’t get it nor his graceful movements out of my mind. He looked so elegant, like the song was _made_ for him. It was in fact _his_ song. I don’t think I could have sung that song for anyone else. I want to tell him that, but then I think of his grin, and I know he already knows it.

I could feel him breathing from across the field—it was a strange connection—and in some ways, I could feel the blows from when he and Koujaku’s wooden practice swords connected. In a real battle, how connected are a Sanga and Touga pair, really? Do they feel one another’s pain? Will his injuries become mine? What if this _isn’t_ what I want?

Ah, shit. Who am I kidding? I can’t say no at this point. And honestly, I don’t want to. What concerns me more is if he ever found another Sanga, someone more competent than me. Would he choose that person over me?

I realize he’s brought me back to my room. He lays me gently on the bed and removes my shoes (I saw he left his own at the door—though I didn’t even notice it). His touch is a little different from usual, _much_ more gentle. Did he feel it, I wonder, when I lost all my power? I am very much aware that his hands are much bigger than mine, and I really don’t have any strength left in my body at all.

“Do you want some water? I’ll get you some as soon as we get you set up here. You felt really heavy on the way back. Are you all right?”

His voice has changed slightly from his teasing tone earlier—he sounds concerned.

Instead of roughly or urgently pulling off my clothes the way he has in the past, he gently removes them from my body, as though I am something fragile or breakable, something precious. It feels a little heart-breaking, actually.

“I wonder if it isn’t possible that you perhaps overdid it this morning, overtaxed yourself, or if I pushed you too hard with training,” he continues speaking to me quietly as he pulls my t-shirt off over my head. I’m dressed in gym clothes for sword training, so they aren’t as complicated as the school uniform. “I’m sorry.” He touches the bruises on my arms again and licks the wound on my chest gently.

I’m sort of surprised to hear that from him, and I look up suddenly, just as he starts working my pants off my waist.

“Ah—that’s all right—you don’t have to—”

“Konoe, you’re sweaty, and these are covered in grass stains,” Rai says, not stopping. “Thanks to me, in part. I’ll get them washed for you.”

What is going through his head? I don’t understand. Is he feeling guilty? Responsible for me? My brain feels as sluggish as my body.

“Once you’ve slept and rested, I’ll take you to the bathhouse, and you can rest your body there. A good soak will restore your body and mind in ways a rest cannot.” He leaves my underwear on but pulls them down slightly, exposing the bruises on my hips, one at a time. He licks each one gently before tucking me under the covers. I would normally protest, or try to squirm out of the way, but I can't move.

After tucking me under the blankets, he stands up and walks to the bathroom. He pours a glass of water and brings it back to me. He lifts my head onto his lap and brings the glass to my lips.

“Drink slowly, not too much.”

I feel his hands gently petting my ears, rather distractingly, while I’m drinking, and I twitch them.

He leaves the glass next to my bed and then tucks my body back under the covers. “I’m a little concerned about leaving you here alone. What if you need something? You’re awfully helpless right now.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I mean, you’re _really_ vulnerable. Completely defenseless.”

The way in which he says those words make me look up at him abruptly. I catch just the _slightest_ grin before it vanishes from his face.

“What?” Rai asks innocently.

“What did you mean by that?” I ask, offended.

“I’m just saying, anyone could come in here right now…”

“And what?” I feel my ire rising.

“Well, I just don’t _know_. They could do _whatever_ they wanted to you, and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. You would just have to submit to whatever was being done to you, wouldn't you?" A little shiver goes through my body, and he hasn't even touched me. "And damn, I have to go back to my second class of the morning! I usually _enjoy_ teaching, but shit. Maybe I should call in sick. One of my prized students is feeling ill—became ill in one of my classes, after all…”

“No!” I insist, almost desperately. “ _Please_! Go to class. Go thrash the hell out of the students in your second class. I will be fine. Do _not_ stay here. I do not require any special attention.”

To my utter horror, Rai sits down on my bed. My eyes fly open wide.

“What? You think you wouldn’t _like_ it? Don’t you trust me?”

I don’t answer, and at first, I don't even want to look at him, but I feel an expectant shiver crawling up my spine in response to his words. I find I have to at least look at him. I have to know what he is thinking by his facial expression. _Do_ I trust him? _Hell no!_

“I could _make_ you like it. I _know_ I could.” That smile is back on his face. 

“What is _wrong_ with you? You have a problem with power! What’s up with that, anyway? Do you _enjoy_ seeing me like this?” I try to keep the belligerent, irritated tone in my voice, despite the fact that I know my body is betraying me.

“I _do_.” I feel a large hand stroking me from the tip of my ears down to my toes—not skipping _any_ part of my body, even if I would like it to—and I am powerless to move out of its way. “I enjoy it _very_ much. Because you’re like this from helping _me_. And from what I can see and feel, I think _you_ might like it, too.”

“Your class is going to start without you.” I try not to sound pouty, and I’m hiding the shivering in my body as best as I can—because I _really_ enjoy his touch a little too much. Just—I would prefer not to be _quite_ so defenseless around this cat.

“I’ll take your key and come back after class to check on you.” Silver hair brushes my face softly—it smells so nice, almost stronger than yesterday—when he leans down to kiss me on both cheeks, the tip of my nose, and my chin. “Sleep soundly, little one. You did really well today. I'm proud of you.” He walks to the door. 

And then he abruptly turns back around to look at me. Before putting on his shoes, he mutters, "Damn it."

He comes back one more time to kiss my ears, and then he leaves, locking the door on his way out.

Thanks to that silver cat and his grabby hands, I’m now slightly wound up—arrgh—but I’m really exhausted. Each time I close my eyes, I imagine what he might do to me if he had stayed here. My body is covered in goosebumps just thinking about it—my tail quivers in delight—and I realize I can move it on its own (finally) with some degree of relief.

I might or might not let the smooth fur of my tail skate across my bare skin—just a _little_ bit—while I imagine what Rai would do to me if I was unable to defend myself. _Just for a little while._ I end up falling asleep with my tail draped across my body, and I sleep soundly, imagining it’s _his_ tail touching me instead.

What the hell is wrong with me? When did I become like this?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: consensual groping, grooming and kissing.

A knock at the door wakes me from my sleep. I know it isn’t Rai since he has a key. He’s the type to let himself in. So I get up to see who it is, wandering to the door in my underwear, slipping an undershirt on over my head. I'm pleased to see it’s Tokino. I haven’t had a chance to catch up with him since I’ve arrived, and seeing his cheerful face is a comforting sight.

I welcome him into my room, my body still awfully sluggish.

“Uwah, Konoe,” he marvels, “I can’t _believe_ you’re a Sanga! Koujaku-Sensei went on and on about how you’re a genuine Sanga, too, since you so suddenly started singing like that while your Togua was under stress, and since you sing with your _body_ and not with an instrument. I was so impressed—I’ve never seen anything like it! I wonder, have you had this power all along, or did Rai-Sensei awaken it in you somehow?”

That’s a good question. I haven’t had much of a chance to think about it, either, since I’ve been sleeping and trying to let my body recover.

“So my question is—how _exactly_ did Rai awaken it? How far have you gone with Rai-Sensei?” Tokino’s blue eyes sparkle and his smile gets even bigger when he asks.

“Tokino!” I blush. “You know I’m not the type to kiss and tell!”

“Konoe—you’re not really the type to kiss _at all_ , let alone _talk_ about it, or else I would have tried something with you years ago,” Tokino mumbles quietly. His words surprise me, and I glance at his face to see if he’s kidding. He must be because he cheerfully continues, “I just can’t believe any of this! You and Rai—you make such an odd couple. When I saw you in his arms this morning, though, it _totally_ makes sense. It’s like he was waiting for you.”

“What do you mean, waiting for me?” I ask. Now I’m curious.

“Well, how about we play a little game?” His voice turning slightly mischievous, Tokino pulls up a chair alongside my bed. “How about I answer one of your questions if you answer one of mine?”

“Um…” I’m not so sure about this.

“Ok, then, let’s start. I’ll go first. Did he _kiss_ you?” Tokino blurts. 

“Um. Yes.” Technically, I have answered his question, so I take my turn without hesitation. “What do you mean when you said Rai-Sensei was waiting for me?” 

“Hey, wait just a minute! That is not fair, Konoe! My answer requires more detail than a simple yes or no answer!”

“Well,” I say with a clever smile, “maybe you should phrase your next question in such a way so it isn’t in a yes or no format. It’s still my turn. I’m waiting.” 

“Ugh. Okay, okay. So—I mean, since Rai-Sensei hasn’t gotten together with anyone, he seems pretty unapproachable. I mean, he’s friends with Koujaku-Sensei, but only friends. He is stand-offish to the rest of the school. According to the rumors, he has let down a lot of interested students and fellow teachers, albeit gently, as I’m sure you can imagine, with those looks and his prospects. In retrospect, he just seemed to be looking for one particular person—you—and you’re, well, very unique. You’re equally aloof, Konoe. I mean, you’re friends with me now, but you were very, very hard to get to know, especially in the beginning. You two make a _perfect_ pair.”

“I see.” I’m not sure I’m happy with his answer. Was I _really_ that hard to get to know? Did he think me unfriendly? Perhaps because the other cats in the village wanted me dead, I didn’t trust anyone. I always felt I was better off alone. Of course, when Tokino first reached out to me, I wasn’t interested in other cats at all, and I couldn’t figure out what he wanted with me. 

“My turn. Was it your first kiss, and either way, describe it.” Yikes. He’s not holding back.

“That’s not exactly a question, Tokino. That’s more of a demand.” I’m feeling a little uncomfortable.

“But we’re friends, Konoe! Don’t you think you owe me as much?” 

“Owe you?” I ask. “Well, I might tell you, but please—keep this between us, okay?” 

“Of course. Because it’s you, I would never tell anyone.” He smiles again, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity and excitement.

“Yes, it was my first kiss, but I’m certain it wasn’t his first, although he has said he doesn’t have a whole lot of experience. It was, ah, how to describe it? Tokino—do I really have to?” I look at him desperately, wringing my hands, and I feel the blood rushing to my ears.

He nods his head eagerly, smiling. 

I look away and lower my voice. “It was amazing. He is aggressive, and how shall I put it? He takes what he wants, without hesitation, and he doesn’t really ask or wait for permission.” 

“Ah—he does kind of come across that way.”

“The first time he kissed me was outside the dorms, my first night. It was during dinner. I think he was irritated because several other instructors had been paying me too much attention, and frankly, I’d had too much to drink. Ah—that reminds me—I am supposed to drop Razel-Sensei’s class.”  
  
“Oh yeah, I was going to ask you what happened when he kept you after class yesterday!” Tokino interrupts. 

“I’ll tell you about that later. So, um, Rai didn’t exactly start by kissing my mouth. He kind of, well, licked my ears, first. It was, like, really rough and thorough, but not like grooming, either—well, _kind_ of like grooming, but his tongue is bigger and rougher—but this was, well, wetter and faster and, well, _dirtier_. He seems to really like my ears, I think.”

“What?” Tokino’s eyebrows shoot up. “Where?? Outside? Like, in _public_!? He was licking your ears in _public_? Making out like that? You could have gotten _caught_! What, is he some kind of exhibitionist?” That’s a word I don’t know—Tokino knows all kinds of things, being from the city and all.

“Well, no one was around, but yeah. He pushed me up against the wall and started attacking my ears. It was weird, but it felt really good. And he kind of…” Choosing my words carefully, I decide not to tell Tokino that Rai grabbed my crotch before he kissed my lips because it’s just too shocking. “We kind of kissed for a while out there.”

“When you say you spent some time kissing, do you mean you also did _other_ stuff?” Tokino’s eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen.

“Well, I’d never been kissed before—and not on my ears—and then he kind of grabbed my tail, too.” I realize too late that I’m answering a question out of turn.

“Gods, your _tail_?! Konoe! He hasn’t even taken you on a date, and you let him touch your _tail_?!” Tokino sounds horrified.

Well, truthfully, I didn’t “let him” do anything—he did what he _wanted_ to me, and it felt so good that I didn’t protest much. Tokino’s tone makes me think I’d better start lying _right now_ , though. We did _way_ more than kissing and tail touching that night and the next day, too. I’m filled with guilt that I didn’t even know I was _supposed_ to feel. Does this make me loose? I just couldn’t help it—it felt so good, and I honestly didn’t know what else to do, other than just go along with it! Worse, though, does Rai think me loose? I _wanted_ to be touched like that. I even kissed him back! Shit. 

I’m a terrible liar. I feel a blush rising, and I start stuttering. 

“I-i-it j-just felt so good,” I stammer. “I-I-I c-couldn’t stop, and we both kinda got c-carried away. I mean, n-nothing serious happened, and no one saw us!” I look away from Tokino when I say this. My voice sounds like I’m making excuses, and I sound terribly guilty. 

“Konoe.” 

“What?” I look back at Tokino, and I feel my cheeks blushing. 

“Are you lying about something? You sound so guilty!” 

“It isn’t your turn. I haven’t asked another question, and I’m not going to. I’m done playing this game.” I look down at my fingers. I really don’t appreciate his judgment. I didn’t even know I should feel guilty about this! Gods, one more thing I can feel bad about! 

“Look,” Tokino explains, reaching out and grabbing my hand suddenly. “I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental. I really don’t think it’s that big of a deal either way—honestly, I was more surprised than anything. I mean, if you really like him, you should definitely do those things with him. It’s only natural, isn’t it? But _only_ if you really like him. I was just worried—I mean—he is so much bigger than you, stronger than you, plus he’s in a position of power as an instructor here at school. If you didn’t want to do those things with him, would you be able to refuse? What would you do? Who would you tell? Could you get away? Would you tell me? What if he hurt you? Would you be able to tell me about it? Or tell someone?”

I look up at Tokino’s face. He is terribly earnest. He is really trying to look out for me.

“Thank you for your concern, Tokino. I appreciate it, really. But you don’t have to worry. I really, really like him, and maybe I feel something even more intense than ‘like’ for him, too. I don’t know how to explain it, but today, while I knew in my _brain_ that today’s class was a demonstration, something in my body didn’t like seeing him on the defense like that. The song came out to protect him. I don’t think I could sing for any other cat except him. I think I’ve been waiting to find the right cat to sing for, and it’s _him_.” I meet Tokino’s gaze directly while I’m speaking. “I know I haven’t known him very long—this _is_ fast—and I know I’m young. But something about him just feels _right_.”

“Well, because it’s you, I believe you,” Tokino says, sounding relieved. “I am just a little afraid for you, though. He seems a little possessive to me—like at breakfast the other day. He really scared the shit out of me.”

“He is terribly possessive. I think he hasn’t been in a relationship before. And we are working that out still.”

“So—what happened with Razel-Sensei?” Tokino asks. “Why are you dropping his class? Did something happen with him?” 

“Ah—that,” I shift uncomfortably. “You know, Tokino, I didn’t know corporal punishment was a thing at this school. I would have appreciated a warning! I mean, I haven’t spent much time around other cats in general. I guess I couldn’t have done anything about it, but it wouldn’t have surprised me so much.

“What are you talking about? Corporal punishment?” Tokino’s face grows serious as he watches me pale at the memory. 

“I’m not sure I want to give you details—gods, it was so embarrassing! But you should be really, really careful not to get on Razel-Sensei’s bad side. He said he was keeping me after for a private tutoring session, but that isn’t what happened at all.”

“Konoe!” Tokino says, horrified. “What did he do?” 

I look away again. I’m pissed. Was it because I’m new? Was what happened to me really hazing? Was he just taking advantage of me? Or was he using me in some way to get back at Rai? 

Then I look back at Tokino. “Other teachers don’t do that—hit their students? Did he just take advantage of me as a new student? What about the disciplinary committee, then? Are they allowed to do whatever they want after dark?” 

“Gods, Konoe—did you have a run-in with them, too? What the heck have you been up to? You’ve only been on campus for three days!” Tokino is horrified.

I show Tokino the bruising on my arms. When I answered the door, I was dressed only in my underwear—and I realize that wasn’t very smart, in retrospect. If it hadn’t been Tokino, it could have been Shiki. He did threaten to pay me a personal visit—anytime he wanted. I get a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach.

“You know, I should probably rest a little more,” I say. “I’m still pretty tired.” 

“Konoe, just because I haven’t had an experience like yours with Razel-Sensei doesn’t mean it never happens. If you want, I will ask around—without using your name, of course. It might be the case that it has happened to other students, too, and they just don’t want to talk about it.” 

“It’s okay,” I say. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”  
  
“Well, I think it’s a big deal. Maybe you should see the headmaster and complain,” Tokino suggests. “You should throw your weight around. You’re a genuine Sanga after all, and they should have to give you what you want and protect you, at the very least.” 

“I’ll think about it,” I say. There’s no way I’ll do that. What would I even say? Go to the headmaster and show him my bruises? I suppose I could ask Rai what he thinks, I guess, get his opinion. Perhaps he has an idea of how to handle this. 

“Okay. Well, if you feel up to it, a couple of things are going on this weekend. There’s a dance tonight on the quad, and Aoba wanted to make sure you were invited—it’s after dinner. Try tocome—it’ll be fun. Then, tomorrow, a few of us are getting together for a weekend party in Noiz’s room after lunch. His room is number 7. Come join us if you want. I’ll introduce you. Lots of the guys want to meet you, especially after your performance today.”

“All right. I’ll come if I feel up to it,” I agree. For now, though, I crawl back under the covers. “Would you lock the door behind you on your way out? Thanks for stopping by, Tokino.” 

“Sure. It’s always good to see you, Konoe.” 

Before he leaves, he leans down and pushes his nose against my shoulder, purring softly—it’s a familiar, friendly Ribika greeting. I return the gesture, as much as I can while lying down.

“See you later.” 

I drift back to sleep after Tokino leaves, my thoughts a jumbled mess.

 

* * *

 

When Rai wakes me later, I am a little out of sorts. What Tokino mentioned about corporal punishment is still on my mind, and I consider bringing it up with Rai. Of course, he notices my angsty behavior, and he ends up asking me what my problem is, though he phrases it much more kindly. He is being awfully nice to me today. First, he wakes me gently, grooming my ears and hair—which I think is a _very_ nice way to wake up. He’s curled up behind me on my bed.

I could _really_ get used to this. 

“Let’s get this exhausted body over to the bathhouse, shall we?” I hear a soft whisper in my ear, followed by his tongue. When I groom myself, I don’t actually clean my ears like that, and it tickles me terribly. I hope he doesn’t continue this while we are in the public bath.

“You don’t plan on touching me like this while we’re soaking in the bathhouse, do you?” I ask, stretching out on the bed, making my body as long as it will go, stretching my arms overhead and behind me, and stretching out my legs and even my toes and tail. My ears flatten slightly with the stretch as well.

Rai stands up, walking to my closet. He grabs my bathrobe and brings it to the bed. “Would that be a problem?” He pulls off my undershirt before helping me into my robe.

I take the robe and try to control my glaring. 

“Yes, it would be a problem!” I exclaim, slightly exasperated. “I don’t want to show off my excitement publicly.” 

“Oh? Does this excite you? How do you know what you want if you haven’t ever tried it?” Rai asks, stroking my shoulders as he helps me into the robe, pulling me close with the tie. “Come on, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. And keep in mind, my object is to _care_ for you. I mean, Konoe, you _sang_ for me today!”

He pulls my face in close for a gentle and soft kiss. It’s really incredibly sexy. 

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? For a Sanga to sing for me? And I know that song was for _me_ —not for anyone else but me. I _loved_ it.”

His words take my breath away and send sweet chills racing up my spine, and I let myself relax in his arms for a moment. It feels good—it feels right—to be here with him. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, immersed in his scent, his soft, silky hair brushing my cheek, listening to his strong steady heartbeat in his chest, enjoying the feeling of his fingers stroking my ears and my hair, moving slowly down my back. When his hands sneak down to touch the base of my tail, it stands up straight, all on its own, fluffing out fully in pleasure.

I could stay like this forever, I think. Even if—even if he only wants me here because I’m a Sanga, it’s okay with me. Because he _wants_ me. He wants _me_. This beautiful, silver cat wants me. 

“What’s wrong?” I hear it murmured softly in my ear. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” I don’t want to talk about the disciplinary committee, or Razel, or anything. I just want to enjoy being with Rai.

“Come now,” Rai murmurs softly, “Let’s get you taken care of. Can you walk?”

“Of course,” I look up at him curiously, wondering at the question. 

“I’d be happy to carry—” I interrupt him, though he is smiling warmly. 

“Uh, no. That won’t be necessary.” That would be embarrassing. He already carried me back to my room, and that was embarrassing enough. 

I follow him out of the room, locking the door behind me, and we walk to the bathhouse. I was there just three days ago, where I first saw him. I flush when I remember. He caught me playing in the fountain, and I mistook him for a student. 

I start with the showers like you’re supposed to do, slipping out of my robe. I’m wearing fewer clothes than Rai, so it takes less time to strip down. Leaving my clothes and my keys in a cubby, I step into the showers and start soaping up. I use shampoo—probably too much—and it stings my eyes when it drips from my hair. 

Rai follows me in shortly—he hands me a second bottle and says, “Shampoo your fur, too, and then follow with this. Leave it on for a few minutes before you rinse.” 

“Okay,” I say, following his instructions, trying not to stare. I can’t really help it. Rai has a beautiful body. I watch him wash his hair—and I notice he has removed his eyepatch.

“Your eye,” I say, approaching him, my hair and fur covered with slimy conditioner. It smells really good, though: minty and fresh with a dash of citrus.

I’m close enough to touch his face, and I brush up against his body. I’m surprised when he flinches from my touch, but I don’t back away. He doesn’t ask before he touches me—ever—so neither will I. I’m going to touch him in the same way.

“Show me,” I demand, reaching up to his face, touching his chin gently, nudging him. 

His right eye is indeed missing—there is an older scar there, the entire eye is roughly sewn shut. It’s a heartbreaking and pitiful wound, and once I see it, Rai seems to want to turn away from me. 

But I find the wound oddly beautiful. I turn his face toward me and stand on my tiptoes so I can kiss the scar, tracing the wound gently with my lips. He may hate this part of himself, but it’s made him who he is, and he’s dared to share it with me, making it precious to me. 

I love this part of him. I hear him inhale roughly as I touch him, and he grabs me as I kiss him, but he loosens his grip and lets me do as I please, once he realizes my intentions. I feel his hands relax, fall away, and then gently move through my slimy hair and the fur of my tail.

“Let’s rinse you off. You need to soak for a while. Your body is still tired, isn’t it?” Rai pulls me under the shower and rinses my hair and tail, running his fingers through the strands, and pulling my fur gently. “There—doesn’t that feel nice?”

He scoops me up in his arms—and I make a surprised sound and protest, “Wait—just a second—what are you doing—stop!”

“You were swaying under the water. Just be quiet.” 

He carries me over to the large pool, and it feels so nice! I float around in the water. But Rai keeps pulling me back to the side. 

“Stay here. Your body is tired. I know you want to play, but you are too tired,” he murmurs. 

I’m a little offended that he thinks I’m trying to play. I was only trying to float! Although, he does pull me over to the fountain and lets me sit right underneath it. The water runs onto my back and shoulders—and it feels so good. I can’t help myself—I do play in it—running my hands and claws through the sheet of water, peeking through the water at Rai.

He has such a funny expression on his face, though.

“What is it?” I ask. 

“You are such a strange cat,” he says.

“Why?” I don’t deny it, however. 

“I just—I mean, I know you are young. How old are you again?” Rai asks.

“I’m 16,” I answer. “Why? How old are you?”

Rai sighs but doesn’t answer my question. “So young.” He touches my chin softly, reaching his hand through the fountain, which captures my attention, gently brushing his fingers against my cheeks. “You have such a sweet face. Your eyes are so wide, innocent.” 

The fact that he isn’t answering my question makes me a little nervous. He isn’t 30 or something, is he? Perhaps he is _way_ older than me and he doesn’t want to tell me?

“Did your friend stop in to see you while I was teaching my class?” 

What? He knew? I can’t stifle the tiny surprised sound that leaks from my mouth. “How could you tell?”

“Don’t be so concerned,” Rai smiles at me. “I _know_ you have your friends. I could smell him on you when I woke you up. It was the slender orange tabby, right?”

“Tokino, yes,” I’m surprised he noticed. “He wanted to make sure I was all right, and he invited me to a dance this evening and to a get-together tomorrow afternoon.” 

Rai is quietly thoughtful, looking at my face for a moment as he strokes me. 

“Perhaps you should go, meet some new people.” I can hardly believe my ears.

“Really? You won’t mind?” 

“Of course not. It’s a school function, the dance, after all. You should go. What was the other thing?” 

“Just a small get together with some students in his friend’s room after lunch tomorrow,” I say, “but I’d rather be with you.”

“Well, what if I see you afterward? Perhaps I’ll supervise the dance. I’ll make an appearance as a chaperone. We have to keep you kids under control.”

The way he’s talking makes me think he’s taking our age difference too seriously. Is he? Or is he just joking? I can’t really tell, even when I look at his pale blue eye.

He smiles at me, showing me pearly white fangs. He is a beautiful cat. I’d much rather spend some more time in his company than with people I don’t know.

“How are you feeling? Refreshed? Do you need a rub-down before the dance, or does your body feel like your own again?” 

“What?” I ask, a little confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Rai grabs hold of my body, making me float dangerously close to him in the water. My breath catches a little, my chest feels tight, and even in the water, I feel myself starting to sweat. “I mean, I am offering to give you a massage if your body still feels tired from singing for me earlier today.”

He pulls me close enough to reach my ears, whispering into them, and licking them in the water. “Would you like that?” 

I would like that very much—but not _here_. I don’t think I can handle the thought of him touching me like that, here—in this public place. I don’t know what would happen, or what I might do. 

I try to pull away from him—it’s overwhelming—and I am really excited and turned on—and honestly, I’m afraid I will get to a place I won’t be able to walk back from while in a public pool. I dip my head out of his reach, slip out of his arms, and try to find the words.

“Uh, um,” I’m so awkward. “I—I can’t do this here. I really can’t do this here. _Please_.” 

Because I’m small and wet, I actually manage to slip out of his grasp fairly easily, but what I don’t expect is the look on his face—he looks hurt—like actually _hurt_ —by my words and actions. His expression brings tears to my own eyes, and that changes his expression to one of instant worry. He opens his mouth. 

“What—what is this? You look like you’re about to cry. Did I frighten you? Gods, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He stands up in the water—the deep pool looks precariously shallow on his tall, lean body—I’m so glad he isn’t any taller, because the soft fluffy white fur below his navel is showing just at water level—and it looks _so_ sexy. I want to lick it when I see it all soaking wet like that—it _needs_ to be groomed—it’s _asking_ for it, begging for it. I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth.

“No, that’s not it,” I say, my heart aching, throbbing loudly in my ears. “Just—not _here_.”

“Ah,” he murmurs, sounding a little relieved. His shoulders droop slightly. “Hey, maybe you should spend some time with your friends. Go to dinner with the tabby—“ 

“Tokino,” I say.

He smiles. “With Tokino. Then, to the dance. Enjoy yourself. I’ll find you afterward, all right?”

“Will you be all right?” 

“I’ll be fine. You go have fun.” He approaches me, leans down and kisses my lips softly. I don’t see his hand, but it reaches behind me and squeezes my ass, and I break the kiss abruptly. 

He smiles and moves to my ears. “We can continue this tonight. Now go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Part 1 is complete, part 2 is coming soon. I’m currently out of town, hence the slower updates! ;) Honestly, I’d rather be writing!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Spankings, Strappings and Paddlings--Oh My! (collected works)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16168838) by [SonicoSenpai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai)




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